


They Ask Me What's My Best Side, I Step Back and Point At You

by Jairo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Businessman!Zayn, Kidnapping AU, M/M, Niall gets taken, Zayn has a bit of a shady past, Zayn really really wants him back, baker!Niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5271215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairo/pseuds/Jairo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{REPOST from 2014}</p><p>I took a few of my fics off ao3 quite a while back but someone recently asked for this one, so I'm reposting it :) </p><p>Summary:</p><p>Zayn’s a 28 year old multi-millionaire with the entire world at his feet, but jaded by all the things he’s had to do to get to where he is.</p><p>Niall’s his sweet 20 year-old boyfriend, the one person who brings meaning to the madness that is Zayn’s life.</p><p>When Niall gets kidnapped by a group demanding ransom among other things, Zayn is willing to do anything to get him back. But he doesn’t even know if Niall is still there to get back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He can’t remember if he told Niall he loved him this morning, the last time he saw him. He thinks that he might have. He likes to think that he told him just as Niall was slipping out the front door on his way to his job at the bakery. Zayn  _likes_ to think he told him, but deep down he knows it’s more likely that he was distracted on his Blackberry and that he probably barely managed a grunt and a brief wave goodbye. It kills him that he can’t remember.

He knows that Niall said it, even though he can’t remember that either. He knows because Niall said it all the time. Niall would say it at night as they stood side by side in front of the bathroom mirror, mouth full of foamy goo as they brushed their teeth. He’d say it on the mornings he woke up with a bleary smile to find Zayn tossing tie after tie onto the bedroom floor and muttering under his breath about secretaries who scheduled meetings at ungodly hours.

Sitting beside him, Niall would lean over to Zayn and say it softly in the middle of business dinners with whichever CEO Zayn’s company was attempting to court that week, and Zayn would feel a smidgen embarrassed but mostly he’d notice the brief looks of naked envy on their dinner partners’ faces. Old jaded men who most probably hadn’t had a real meaningful conversation with their wives in months and hardened shrewd women who’d learned to pretend not to notice their husbands multiple and regular indiscretions. While Zayn had gorgeous Niall with his quiet sincere, “Love you.” �

Even though Zayn didn’t always say it back, he realizes now that somewhere along the way those words became somewhat of a lifeline for him. Those words reminded him that no matter what happened at the office, no matter what business deal he did or didn’t see through; there was somebody waiting for him at home who loved him purely and fiercely, someone who wouldn’t mind if Zayn never managed to make another penny in his entire life.

The undeniable fact is that most people are in Zayn’s life because of what they can get from him and what he can get done for them. All throughout the time that Zayn worked his way up the seedy business world, starting out as an ambitious hopeful 17 year old and ending up the suspicious calculating 28 year-old he is now, he has only ever come across people who wanted to use him (just like he wanted to use them). The only thing Niall ever asked for was to be loved back.

Niall is the single most important thing in his life.

Zayn can’t remember if he ever actually told him that.

****************************************

Zayn doesn’t really remember the morning he last saw Niall, but he does remember the day before that. He’d come home from the office quite early for once, just after 6h30 pm, and when he’d walked into the house and approached the kitchen he was hit by the aroma that he’d come to associate with the times Niall wanted to use him as a guinea pig for a new recipe - that aroma being a mouth-watering mixture of vanilla, flour, cinnamon, sugary butter.

See, Niall loved to bake but because he toiled away at his job all day doing just that, he rarely baked at home unless he wanted to get Zayn’s opinion on some new concoction he’d come up with before he tried it out on Simon. Zayn was always honest, brutally so at times.

Niall had started working as an apprentice pastry chef at Simon’s Bistro just over a year ago. When he and Zayn had begun dating six months prior to that, he’d been a little aimless - 19 years old and not really sure of what he wanted to do with his life, dabbling in a few classes at the local community college and working in the men’s tie section of a local department store. When Zayn had asked him one night what he  _really_ saw himself doing and Niall answered almost immediately, “I love to bake. Dunno if I’m good enough though”, Zayn reassured him that of course he was good enough even though he hadn’t actually tasted anything baked by Niall at that point, hadn’t even known it was something Niall liked to do because Niall had never mentioned it before.

Zayn talked him into pursuing it, his thinking being that Niall would start baking more  _at home_ (= happy Niall + yum times for Zayn). He never though that Niall would go out the very next day and sweet-talk some surly chef downtown into taking him on as an apprentice. From that day on though, Niall was noticeably happier and he had a newly-acquired air of growing confidence in himself, and that part made Zayn glad too.

So when Zayn walked into the house that last day and smelled something utterly scrumptious in the air, he wondered with more than a little eagerness what sugary invention would shortly be tipped into his mouth for him to taste. He soon found out because when he entered the kitchen, he’d barely had time to throw his tie and briefcase onto the countertop before Niall was rushing towards him with a baked good in his hand.

Niall was wearing that ridiculous purple Bieber apron Zayn had bought him (bought him as a joke!), his cheeks flushed from the warmth in the kitchen and his eyes brimming with the enthusiasm of youth. (That is one of the things Zayn loves most about him - his eagerness, his unbridled happiness over the simple things in life: a perfect chocolate caramel cupcake, Sunday morning rainfall while they doze in bed, slash horror films with awful cringey acting.) Maybe Zayn hoped that some of that enthusiasm would rub off on him because he hasn't really felt passionate about anything in years. Well anything apart from Niall.

Niall was a constant reminder that life could be joyful. “Hi! Taste this! Tell me what you think. I think the nutmeg might be a little too much but I can’t really tell anymore - Maybe it needs  _more_  nutmeg? Or a pinch more salt? Oh and I also made you peanut butter cookies, but you need to tell me your opinion on  _this_  first! - Sorry, I should shut up and let you actually taste it!” All of this was said in an excited rush while Zayn looked on fondly. (Peanut butter cookies were Zayn’s favourite, by the way.) Niall grinned up at him, and something sweet and crumbly was slid into his Zayn’s mouth before he even had a chance to ask what it was.

“Raspberry and dark chocolate croissants,” Niall explained as Zayn chewed. He tipped his face upwards and gave Zayn a soft peck on the cheek. The kiss smelled like sugar and butter, and Zayn pointed to his other cheek for another one while he swallowed down the last of the pastry. Niall obliged and then said with a sunshine smile that warmed Zayn to the tip of his cynical soul, “I missed you today.” �

In response, Zayn took hold of his chin with one hand and kissed his sweet lips, taking his time and savouring it because maybe he didn’t always know how to put it into words but he’d missed him too. When he drew back, he knew Niall was waiting for his honest verdict on the croissants so he gave it to him. “That was good. Really good, baby. Don’t know what’s in it but I don’t think it needs more anything or less anything. I like it almost as much as the walnut torte you made last month.” �

Niall’s baked goods were almost always delicious, although some were better than others. The only real failure had been a sour lemon meringue experiment a few months back where Zayn had told him not even a little apologetically as he struggled to swallow, “No. Never make that at work. Awful. That’s truly bad, sweetheart - Any peanut butter cookies lying around?” �

 So when Zayn told him that the raspberry chocolate croissants were great, Niall knew that he could take his word for it and he did a little happy jig across the kitchen floor, singing some dumb made-up song with the lyrics only appearing to contain the words, “Yes! Success!” �

Zayn then ate a load of his specially-made PB cookies while Niall edited the recipe he’d written in the notebook he carried everywhere, crossing things out and adding the sort of Niall musings which were completely indecipherable to anybody else.  But Zayn didn’t doubt that he was witnessing the origins of a best-selling cookbook right there in his kitchen. Mouth full of cookies, Zayn caught sight of two red velvet cupcakes next to the smoothie maker and he wondered why he wasn’t obese yet from living with a wonderful boyfriend who brought him samplings of his favourite things from the bakery every day. Eventually this fast metabolism was gonna wear out on him.

They spent the rest of the night lounging on the couch watching Criminal Minds and eating an extremely nutritious supper of croissants and hot chocolate. Before falling asleep, they argued for about two minutes because Zayn tried to get out of going to dinner with Niall’s brother and his wife the next day, citing urgent work stuff as his excuse. - The argument only lasted two minutes because that was how quickly it took Niall to get him to agree that yes, they would be going to dinner and yes as CEO, Zayn's “work stuff’ could certainly wait.

(And that’s another thing that Zayn loves about him: Niall is kind, the sweetest person Zayn ever met - but he’s no pushover. And Zayn appreciates that because a lot of the people in Zayn’s life let him get away with murder. Ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriends included.) Before he met Niall, Zayn had become the type of boyfriend that liked to see how far he could push his lover before they finally called it quits… would infidelity be the thing that drove them away; would his unpredictable temper become too much for them to handle; would his careful cat and mouse game of lavishing them with attention one day and then coldly ignoring them the next day eventually drive them insane?

Often times, none of these things drove those people away because they weren’t really with him for  _him_  anyway; the material benefits they accumulated over the course of the relationship more than 'made up’ for whatever psychological/emotional havoc Zayn attempted to wreak. So in the end, Zayn would break things off himself, frustrated and certain that love (whatever the fuck that was) wasn’t in the cards for him.

Then came the day that 19-year old Niall Horan helped him pick out a blue silk tie at a department store that Zayn never usually even stepped foot inside but was forced to that morning because he’d spilled coffee on his favorite Armani tie and he needed to be at an important merger meeting in thirty minutes time.

Maybe it was the way Niall kept clearing his throat nervously, his cheeks becoming redder and redder each time he stammered, as he suggested a few unsuitable ties to Zayn before eventually murmuring, “Sorry - I - I’m usually much better at this, I swear…” Maybe it was because  _usually_  Zayn would’ve been unbelievably annoyed with a salesperson wasting his time like this and would’ve demanded to see the manager, but with this blond cherub-of-a young man he found it a little endearing.

Maybe it was because of all that or maybe it was just because the boy had a cute butt and an even cuter face, but either way, Zayn scrawled something on the back of his business card and handed it to him before walking off to go pay. (“I like the way you blush, I’d like to see it again over dinner tomorrow night,” Niall later quotes back at him months into their relationship when he wants to tease him.)

Zayn was expecting him to call the same day he gave him the card but it was an entire five days later that Zayn heard from him and that in itself was enough to pique Zayn’s interest - He wasn’t used to being kept waiting. They went out for dinner that night at the fanciest place in town, the kind that had a three month waiting list if you weren’t the likes of Zayn Malik. Niall didn’t seem too impressed by any of it, although he did rave about dessert. He barely touched his foie gras though, preferring to talk throughout dinner about anything and everything, mesmerising Zayn just a little with each word he spoke.

When they left the restaurant some hours later and were about to step inside the car, Zayn distinctly heard Niall’s stomach grumble and he raised a brow at him, fighting a laugh when he saw the way Niall’s face immediately became scarlet in the moonlight.  _There_  was that blush Zayn enjoyed so much.

“You’re still hungry - You didn’t like the food.” �

It wasn’t a question but Niall answered quickly, “No, I did! Dinner was great! I’m fine.” �

Zayn did laugh then, surprising himself even. “You’re not fine. Tell me what you want to eat, we’ll go there.” �

Niall looked torn for a moment. Then he said sheepishly, “Well, there’s a McDonald’s right down the street from where I live - I was actually just gonna go there, um, after you’d dropped me off -” �

“Then that’s where we’ll go. No date of mine is going to starve on my watch.” �

Niall still looked a little sheepish. “I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t have a good time. I did. I had a really good time with you. Just didn’t dig the food much.” �

So Zayn’s driver took them to McDonalds and there Niall ordered for them because Zayn didn’t know what was good, he hadn’t eaten there in years. As they ate, Zayn begrudgingly admitted that his chicken nuggets were delicious. And then he said that in future he’d always take Niall out to eat at places that had real food, no more foie gras and fish eggs.

And then Niall asked him with an innocent wide-eyed look why Zayn was assuming that they would be going out again.

And then Niall laughed at the embarrassed way Zayn paused and stared down into his Coke with the hint of a hurt frown. “I’m kidding, Zayn. Yeah you shouldn’t assume stuff but this time you’re completely right, I do wanna go out with you again.” �

So that was that. They started seeing each other and as his feelings for Niall grew, so did Zayn’s urge to panic. He felt increasingly out of his depth. He found that he had Niall on his mind at all hours of the day, and it made him feel weak. He was used to being completely in control and when he was with Niall it felt a lot like things could quickly spiral right out of his control - he could deal with some of the meanest bastards in the industry and smooth talk his way out of any situation imaginable but Niall Horan made him feel so  _unsure_ of himself sometimes. Simply because Niall was kind of everything Zayn never knew he’d always wanted. And Zayn didn’t entirely like the shift in the balance of power he perceived to be happening.

So Zayn did what he did best. Self-sabotage. He started playing his usual games, trying to see what it would take to make Niall tip over the edge, trying to see how much Niall would let him get away with. Turns out very little.

It was a small thing really that Zayn did, compared to some of the shit he had pulled in his previous relationships. First, he made himself unavailable for a week without a single explanation and this was after he and Niall had been spending time together nearly every day for the past month. When Zayn finally got back into contact with Niall after a week, hating the way his heart was pounding hard with sheer dread at the prospect of Niall telling him to fuck off, he was surprised and relieved when Niall reluctantly agreed to come over to Zayn’s house for dinner. (Dinner prepared by the personal chef. Zayn couldn’t cook for shit.)

Niall was pretty quiet as they ate their spaghetti and meatballs, very complimentary to the chef but not really saying much to Zayn. But he was there, right? And a little part of Zayn couldn’t believe his luck and another part of him couldn’t just accept that luck.

In Zayn’s (slightly warped) mind, testing Niall was the only way to find out if Niall really wanted to be with him. It was the only way of finding out  _how much_  Niall wanted to be with him. So when one of Zayn’s ex-girlfriends, Alexa, called in the middle of dessert, he looked at Niall for a moment and then took the call he’d been ignoring for weeks - honestly, she wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. But he took the call because he wanted to see what Niall’s reaction would be if he flirted a little with her - if he briefly reminisced about a naughty midnight swim the two of them had taken the night they broke up - if he asked her whether she was seeing anybody lately.

Niall’s reaction was to just listen until he’d evidently heard enough, then abruptly stand up from the table and storm towards the front door. In horror, Zayn dropped the call without even bothering to say goodbye to Alexa and raced after him. He always fucked things up and he didn’t even really understand why. He found Niall pacing outside on the porch, in the middle of a call himself, asking his friend Liam to come pick him up and explaining that he had no way of leaving the mansion - Zayn had driven him there.

Niall ended the call and came to stand right before Zayn who dear God, had never before felt so shit in his entire life. When Niall spoke Zayn was surprised by the quiet venom in his voice and most of all, horrified at himself because of the underlying plain hurt there in that voice. “I don’t know who you think you are. Or rather, who you think I am. Do you think I’m just some boytoy you can call up whenever you feel like it? You think I should be willing to share you? Why? Because you’re the great Zayn Malik and I’m just some kid who sells ties?” �

Zayn shook his head, almost wanting to cry for once in his adult life because no, that was not what he thought at all. Niall was perfect. And Zayn was the worthless piece of shit.

Niall continued, eyes blazing, “I refuse to be treated like that. You may not think I deserve your respect or whatever. But I happen to think I’m worth a little more than the heaps and scraps you’re trying to throw my way.” �

“She means nothing.” That wasn’t really what Zayn had meant to say, but that’s what came out.

If anything, these words made Niall even angrier. “Oh? So you’re not only screwing me around, you’re doing it to her too? Is that what you said about me to whoever you were with this past week while you ignored my calls? He means nothing?” �

“No.” Zayn wasn’t used to being spoken to like this and while he knew he deserved it, he really didn’t know how to respond.

Niall sighed. “I really like you Zayn. _Liked_. But I’m not gonna waste my time on somebody who obviously thinks he’s better than me. You probably think you’re better than everybody though, so I guess I shouldn’t take it too personally.” �

Niall took one last look at him and ran down the porch steps down to the end of the driveway, evidently to wait for Liam. Zayn was left floundering on the porch, wanting to run after him but not really sure of what he would even say. All Zayn knew was that he felt like scum.

What followed after that was a period in Zayn’s life that he would soon try to completely forget simply because his actions were very embarrassing. He managed to ignore the whole thing for about two days, almost convincing himself that he didn’t give a shit about some 19 year old kid.

But soon enough a couple of nights after the dinner date with Niall, Zayn got blitzed-drunk, all alone in his giant house. Alone, always alone. He proceeded to leave a series of grovelling messages on Niall’s voicemail that night, incoherently trying to explain why he’d done what he did. The next morning when he woke up, there was not a single missed call or text from Niall.

He tried roses. Carnations. Daisies. Sunflowers. Peonies. He spent a fortune on dumb flowers and gift baskets that he wasn’t even sure Niall liked. In the end, he figured that Niall didn’t like them because he still wasn’t returning his calls. He then remembered Niall talking about how he loved guitars so Zayn splurged on a 1949 Fender Broadcaster Prototype, the price of which made even him wince a little. He got it delivered to Niall’s apartment, only to be informed by the courier service that Niall had refused to accept it. “Did he know what was inside the box?” Zayn asked incredulously. “Yes, he was informed. He, uh, didn’t want it, sir,” was the courier’s reply.

Zayn left another voicemail shortly after this, sober this time, but all he could manage to say was, “Please.” Unsurprisingly, this didn’t elicit any response either. So he tried more gifts because that had always been the way he’d fixed things in the past - there  _had_  to be  _something_  Niall wanted. Zayn sent him diamond cufflinks, all sorts of electronics, a Rolex, another guitar thinking that maybe Niall hadn’t liked the colour or make of the first one. Zayn was pretty sure the courier company grew to hate him. Niall refused every gift.

 _Well, screw him then_ , Zayn told himself repeatedly. But he couldn’t stick to it for more than a day. A few weeks after everything had gone down, Zayn had another idea. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that everything he’d learned about Niall since their first date two and a half months ago showed one thing - Niall was not impressed by money or fancy things and he was even less impressed by people who thought they were fancy. It’s no wonder all the gifts were returned, really. Niall liked people who were real. Who were honest about how they felt and who treated other people decently.

So Zayn tried the last thing he could think of. A note. But because he generally sucked at expressing his feelings, he only managed a couple of lines. He hoped that it would be enough.

_I’m a 26 year old man and you make me feel like I’m 14 all over again, about to be rejected by my crush in front of the entire school. (That really happened by the way.) I lose my bearings around you because of how much I feel for you. So I tried to ruin things because that felt easier. But I was wrong, you not being here is so much harder. Anyway this is not an excuse. I just wanted to explain. I couldn’t bear it if you honestly believed I think I’m better than you. Because I’m not. We both know that._

He put it inside an envelope and this time, this was all that was delivered by the couriers to Niall’s apartment. It wasn’t returned.

That night he got a single text from Niall:

_This is the only chance you’re getting. I’m not gonna give you a second one. And don’t ever try to buy me again._

And Zayn made sure to never need a second one. But that whole situation taught him a very important lesson - love had to be earned, deserved. And remembering that over the year and a half they’ve been together has made him want to be a better person. He wants to be someone who deserves Niall.

****************************************

When Niall gets taken, kidnapped in broad daylight, Zayn blames everyone and everything. He blames himself for not being there to stop it. He rants at the police for not having anticipated that there was a group of psychotic criminals out there, he rages at the officers assigned to the case for letting this happen to Niall of all people. Jesus Christ, his sweet  _baby_. He blames Niall for insisting on keeping that damn job at the bakery downtown even though Zayn told him a million times that he could get him a nicer apprenticeship at the fancy hotel chain owned by one of his business associates. If Niall had been at that hotel where security was unrelenting tight or even better, at home, and not at some bakery in a dodgy part of the city, chances are none of this would’ve ever happened.

A ransom note with a smear of blood smudged across it appears in his mailbox, and the housekeeper tearfully brings it to him. Zayn sinks to the floor and then promptly rises, taking his anger out on everything in the near vicinity. Suddenly he blinks and finds that his whole living room has been trashed and his chest is heaving and he’s screaming and he feels like he is losing his mind, and he knows that he’s caused the damage to the furniture that he sees in front of him but he doesn’t remember doing it.

Zayn then sinks back onto the carpet and blames himself some more, thinks about how he should’ve just fucking bought Niall his own fucking bakery in a safer neighborhood instead of trying to force him to work at some uppity fucking hotel. But even before he finishes this thought, he knows without a question that Niall would have never let him buy it. Zayn still blames himself.

He can’t remember if he told Niall he loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

The ransom note is addressed to Zayn, and it nearly breaks him because it proves to him that this whole thing is his fault. Niall has been gone for about 3 hours and before the ransom note arrived, all they knew is what they were told by Niall’s co-worker Josh:  just as Niall was about to step inside the bistro that morning he was grabbed by a threesome of balaclava-wearing men and shoved into the back of a van. Josh said that it all happened in a matter of seconds and there was nothing he could do except watch in horror through the restaurant window as the van sped off.

Zayn almost laughed when he got the call from Simon because he was sure they were all playing some dumb juvenile prank on him. He figured Niall was in on it too. The whole thing sounded like something right out of a movie. But Zayn quickly sobered when he realised that it was no joke. Niall had been taken.

The police have been called and Zayn is not even sure if he’s the one who called them. Everything is a big blur because all he can think about is the fact that Niall is in danger, Niall could be hurt, Niall is probably so very  _scared_ , Niall needs him and there’s nothing Zayn can do. Niall could be  _dead_. His mind goes to scenarios of sick bastards who take young pretty boys for their own sadistic pleasures. It’s all a blur and at the same time all of Zayn's worries are playing out in his mind with painful clarity. Zayn has never been so terrified in his life. So he finds that he’s having a little trouble concentrating on everything that’s happening around him.

Until the typed ransom note arrives, that is. Nobody sees the drop-off but there it is in his mailbox a few hours after Niall is taken. Actually, it might have been there all night, all morning, because nobody has checked the mailbox since yesterday.

**He’s alive for now but who knows how long it will stay like that. He’s a tough one. A little too mouthy for my liking. I can see why you like him though. Zee. Zayners. I know how that temper of yours is. I'm picturing how mad you are right now and that alone is almost enough to make this worthwhile. But of course, I want more than that. If I was you I’d put together 500 000 real quick. You’ll be hearing from us.**

This person knows him. And Zayn’s blood boils because whoever the fuck this is, they took the only thing he cares about and he’s going to  _kill_  them, tear them apart with his bare hands. And apart from the anger, he feels more guilt than he's felt in his entire life - this happened to Niall because of him, even if he doesn’t know  _why_  it happened. But he knows he has enemies. You don’t get to where Zayn is without ruffling a few feathers along the way. He didn’t build this empire by making friends and playing nice. To put it gently.

The note referred to 'us'. A little paranoid at this point, it occurs to Zayn that maybe all the people he’s pissed off over the past decade have teamed up and are all trying to get their revenge at once. But the police officer who interviews him tells him it’s more likely that only one person, at the very most two, would hold a vendetta strong enough to do something like this for personal reasons. The rest of the people who've taken Niall, if there are any, are more likely to be in it for whatever cut of the money they’re expecting.

Zayn’s doesn’t know if it’s because of who he is or if it’s because of the high ransom being demanded, but the police bring a great deal of manpower and set up station at Zayn’s house.  _Well it’s Niall’s house too_ , Zayn thinks to himself almost defiantly when he hears one of the officers refer to it as the “Malik property’. It’s Niall’s house, no matter how much he always tried to insist it wasn’t simply because he didn’t pay for it. “It’s my home, but it’s not my house,” Niall liked to say. The first time Niall said that, it took a little while for Zayn to wrap his head around it. Before Niall moved in, the mansion was just a flashy place for Zayn to rest his head at night and eat a few meals. It was never a home until Niall came and filled every corner of the house with his energy and sudden bursts of loud laughter.

He made Zayn look forward to coming back to the house every day after work, unlike before when he used to stay at work as late as possible. All the house-staff adore Niall and they’re devastated that he’s been taken. They adore Niall, but Zayn suspects they merely tolerate  _him_. Not that Zayn cares about that sort of thing.

Police are crawling all over the mansion, supposedly to wait to hear from the kidnappers but mostly they’re rifling through the property, inside and outside, looking for anything that might give them any clue about the identity of Niall’s kidnappers. The mailbox where the ransom note was left is dusted for fingerprints but Zayn doesn’t hold much hope where that is concerned - any criminal worth their salt wouldn’t make such an elementary mistake.

Two men who look like they can’t be much older than Zayn are assigned to the case, Detectives Tomlinson and Styles. In fact, their youth is a bit of an issue for Zayn and he has no problem demanding to know what their credentials are as soon as they arrive at the house. There’s no way he’s going to let amateurs handle something as critical as this. What’s at stake here is  _Niall_. The shorter one, Tomlinson looks a bit miffed when Zayn asks, but the other one patiently explains, “We’re good at what we do. That’s why we were chosen for this case. We both specialise in kidnappings and negotiations.” � 

The waiting game that follows is what does Zayn’s head in. Everybody is waiting around for either another note or the more likely scenario, a call. He’s not usually one for prayer but as he waits in the crowded living room, that’s exactly what he does. In his head he pleads, bargains with God. He tells Him that he will do  _anything_  if He returns Niall safely. And he means it. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t let be done to himself or taken away from himself, if it meant Niall would be okay. Even though he continues to mentally beg, he kind of reckons his sudden desperate prayers won’t be heard - he hasn’t spoken to God in years.

When he’s done as much praying as he can do, he thinks about Niall and tries to convince himself that he’s alright. He knows that Niall can handle himself and usually that makes him proud as hell, but right now all he wants is for Niall to stay  _safe_  and in  _one piece_ , so he hopes that Niall doesn’t piss off those fuckers too much. But then again: yes, Niall can be a little mouthy when he’s mad just as the ransom note said, but Niall is not dumb. Zayn knows he can count on him to do whatever it takes from his side to get out of this. But that may not be enough. Zayn needs to do all  _he_  can from  _this_  side. And still, that may not be enough.

Sometime into the afternoon, Zayn notices the housekeeper bustling around making coffee for everybody and bringing in platters of finger foods. He bristles noticeably, wants to snap at every single person in the near vicinity. Because, how the fuck can anybody in this room even think about mini-sausages and chicken wings when Niall’s life is in danger? But he keeps his mouth shut even though it’s fucking hard and instead just tries to come up with the answer to the question that has been plaguing him ever since he read the note. That question being who hates him so much that they would do this to someone so completely innocent.

It’s a difficult question to answer. There are quite a few potential candidates who despise him, and yet he can’t think of one who ever seemed crazy enough to go to the lengths of kidnapping and ransom. It’s also a long period of time to try to sift through - from the time he was 17 when he started working at his uncle’s cellphone repair shop until now, Zayn has encountered a lot of people. When he was 19 his uncle Savir retired and he'd felt that Zayn was the only one of the younger generation capable enough to take over the small store, so he gave it to him. Much to the distaste of Zayn’s older cousins and other uncles.

With the store in his full control, Zayn soon got ambitious ideas about how to expand the business. He’d known even back then that the simple life wasn’t for him; he was destined for something greater.

He'd been lucky that the bank manager in his town was an old flirt of a woman who had a bit of soft spot for him (or for his face), so with only a little extra haggling, he was able to convince her to take a chance on him and give him the loan he needed to fulfil his plans.

Niall isn’t really a huge fan of what Zayn does now. Which is a wide variety of  things. Some a little questionable. Zayn likes to keep his finger in every pot, keep things interesting. From that small family-owned cellphone repair shop, he branched out into a bigger electronics store. He managed to keep his prices low and still turn huge profits by negotiating exclusive deals with suppliers. Deals that maybe involved turning a blind eye to the suppliers’ not-always-legal sourcing of component parts, and that definitely involved pissing off other electronics stores in the area as he dipped into their earnings. He figured that legally and business-wise he was clean because he was buying from registered, fully operational warehouses. How those warehouses conducted their internal supply chain system was none of his business. Or so he tried to convince himself.

Niall doesn’t really like that part of Zayn’s empire. And he’s not a huge fan of the porn distribution company Zayn now owns. Zayn doesn’t see the big deal. His company doesn’t even shoot the scenes or ever deal with the actors. It just distributes the stuff. The best stuff. Only the quality stuff for Zayn Malik. And Niall isn’t the only one who isn’t a fan. Zayn’s Muslim family to this day are very against it. He hasn’t spoken to many of his older family members in years

Niall  _does_  like the chain of movie theatres Zayn owns in town. He’s okay with the liquor stores. He’s proud of Zayn for the most part and the rest of it that he’s not so proud of, they haven’t really talked about it except for one time.

Zayn remembers the conversation the two of them had over a year ago just before Niall moved in with him. They’d been lying in Zayn’s bed on a Sunday morning, watching movies on the big screen. And call him slightly egotistical but Zayn had really wanted to know, “What took you so long to call when I gave you my business card that day? Took you five days. I mean, it’s fine, I’m not obsessing about it or anything. I’m just curious.” �

And Niall laughed a little and kissed him. When he drew away, “I can’t believe you even still think about that. Did I hurt your feelings or something? I wasn’t trying to.” �

Zayn shook his head. “No. You didn’t hurt my feelings. At the time I thought you were probably just playing a bit of hard-to-get and I was okay with that. But now that I actually know you, I know you don’t play games. So there had to be another reason - Maybe you didn’t like me at all but you in the end you thought  _what the heck, dinner can’t hurt_?” �

Niall was the one who shook his head hard this time, his eyes a little wide. “No. Ha ha, no. I liked you. I don’t know how you failed to notice but I could barely string a sentence together when you walked into the store. But - I wasn’t sure about you. After I did a bit of research on you. I know this is a little stalkerish but I googled you after you gave me your business card.  I reckoned you seemed like somebody important but I didn’t know who you were. And I wanted to know what you were about.” �

Zayn could already see where this was going and it made his heart sink a little. “You googled me and you didn’t like what you found.” �

“Yeah - Basically.” �

“What did you find?” �

Niall rubbed the back of neck and rolled off from on top of Zayn onto his back on the other side of his bed. “Um. I found your business profile which was actually really cool. I couldn’t believe you’ve achieved so much and own all those businesses at your age. Kinda made me feel like even more of a slacker to be honest. But I also found some articles... Zayn, from time to time you get linked to some pretty shady stuff. But the weird thing is, nobody can ever prove anything. I didn’t like any of it. So I didn’t call.” �

Zayn looked across at him and reminded him, “But you did call - eventually. Why?” �

Niall nodded, smiling a little. “Because. I’m a pretty good reader of people and I didn’t get any nasty vibes off you the first time we met, despite what the articles said. And you seemed really stressed out that day at the store, you looked like you needed somebody to, I dunno, take care of you maybe. You were a bit of a cunt, bossing me around and basically telling me all my suggestions were shit. But it came across like maybe you didn’t really want to be a cunt.” �

Niall laughed suddenly and added, “And you were the hottest person I’d ever seen. Still are. That never hurts. So I talked to Liam and he’ll deny it now but he tried to talk me out it. But I called you anyway. I figured I could have dinner with you and see what you’re all about for myself. If it turned out you were indeed a jackass, well it would only be one night wasted. No harm done.” �

Zayn grinned. “Then we had dinner and I charmed your doubts away. And the rest is history as they say.” �

“Pretty much. You were actually pretty nice. And kind of quiet, I wasn’t expecting that. And instead of getting more _relaxed_  as the night went on, it looked like you got more  _nervous_. Who could resist that?” �

Shit, Zayn had always hoped that his discomfort that night hadn’t been so obvious. The thing is, the more Niall had blabbed and laughed during the evening, the more Zayn got just a little addicted and the more he realised there was a lot more to this talkative 19 year old than he’d thought. He’d asked him out thinking Niall would be a nice little piece of ass for one night, a little distraction from Zayn’s busy day. But throughout dinner Niall had him intrigued in other ways, too. That had left Zayn feeling a little off balance.

“I wasn’t nervous that night,” Zayn insisted, in response to Niall’s teasing.

Niall rolled his eyes and ignored him, carrying on like Zayn hadn’t even spoken. He got this very naughty grin on his face. “And then a week later when I found out what good dick you give, obviously I was done for. Never come so hard in my fucking life. In fact, I could do with some of that dick right now," he laughed.

Zayn meant to say something like, “That’s always the number one ace up my sleeve.” But instead what came out was more or less what he'd been wanting to ask Niall for days, albeit a little less elegant than he'd planned, “If you move in with me you can get all the dick you want.” �

Niall blinked. “Wha- what?” �

“Move in with me. I don’t like this house when you’re not here.” �

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And now he’s not here, again. Except this time it’s in a horrible way that Zayn would’ve never even imagined.

When Zayn’s landline rings at half past 4 in the afternoon, everybody goes quiet and even the air in the room seems to still. Detective Styles has already explained the equipment they’ve set up on the coffee table to trace the call. Unlike movies have led Zayn to believe, Harry Styles informs him that he will not have to keep the caller talking for 60 seconds in order for police to trace the call. These days, modern technology means that a call is immediately traceable even if a call is blocked. Styles also tells Zayn that it’s likely that the kidnappers will be using cheap “drop-phones” that they dispose of as soon as the call is made.

Heart thudding as Tomlinson nods for him to answer it, Zayn moves towards the phone and he’s just grateful that his shaky legs carry him over there successfully. He answers and finds that his voice sounds a lot calmer and colder than he feels. “Hello?” �

“Zayn.” The voice sounds garbled, not human. A voice distorter is being used and Zayn is not surprised.

Harry gestures for Zayn to keep talking so he does. He asks what he was about to ask anyway. “Where’s Niall? What have you done with him?” �

The voice laughs coldly. “Nothing much. Had to teach him a lesson or two though. Your little boyfriend’s got quite the potty mouth.” �

Zayn stops breathing. “What did you do? I swear if you’ve so much as laid a hand on him, I will kill you. That’s a promise. Who the fuck are you? Why did you take  _him_ , why didn’t you just come after me?” In the back of his mind, Zayn knows that it’s probably not wise to make death threats in the presence of police but he doesn’t give a shit anymore.

In contrast to Zayn's panic, the caller's voice is slow and collected. “Relax, Zee. You’ll wear yourself out and we’re only just getting started. I had my friend here slap him around a little but he’ll live. If it makes you feel better, your boy still told us to go fuck ourselves when we were done. Had to gag the little brat.” �

The caller’s voice becomes even colder if that’s possible. “He kept asking about you. Before we gagged him. Wanted to know if you were okay, if we hadn’t done something to you too.” �

Zayn closes his eyes because otherwise he will cry. When he opens them Harry gives him a thumbs up that Zayn barely acknowledges, which means that the call has been traced and officers are already headed to the location where the call is being made from.

The adrenaline is pumping through Zayn's veins and he only has one thing on the mind. To bring Niall back. “Just tell me who you are and what you want. You want money? You can have it! Let him go.” �

There’s a pause and it feels ominous to Zayn, even over the phone. “Sure, I want the money Zee. But this isn’t about money. This goes much further than that. Like I said, we’re only just getting started.” �

Blinding rage makes Zayn freezes and he just stares at Louis across from him. Louis mouths at him to say that he’ll do whatever the kidnappers want. Zayn switches it up a little, of course. “Whatever the fuck this is about, leave him out of it. I’ll do what you want. Just let him go. And don’t you fucking  _dare_  touch him again. I swear to God - Lay another finger on him -” �

“What are you gonna do?  You can’t do shit. I bet that makes you so mad. All you can do is what I tell you to. You have to sit there and wait for my next move. I remember how much you hate taking orders.” �

“Who _are_ you,” Zayn says in a near-whisper. He feels like he’s losing his mind. This whole thing feels like a horrible dream.

“All in good time, Zayn. Don’t spoil the fun.” �

The line goes dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a couple of people thought i should do a chapter from Niall's POV. I hadn't really considered it before that but the more I thought about it, the more I realised what a good idea it was. So here goes :) ...

 

Niall knows they’re going to kill him. And the reason he knows this is because none of them are making any attempts to hide their faces from him. And from what he can tell they are calling each other by their real names, if the ease and comfort they’re showing is any indication. He’s watched enough cop shows to know that this is very bad for him, it means they’re not worried about him revealing their identities to the police at the end of all this - they have no intention of letting him make it out alive.

Niall also knows by now that this whole kidnapping thing has something to do with Zayn. In the van when they first threw Niall inside, the dumb red-haired beefy one referred to him as “Malik’s boy” and after that when they dumped him onto a chair in some deserted warehouse hours away from the bakery and tied his hands up, he heard the one who he’s pegged as the leader say, “Gonna drive to the other site and call that fucker Zayn from there.” Niall was scared that they’d done something to Zayn too and that had made him curse and rage and lose his shit like he hasn’t really done in a long time.

He knows this all has  _something_  to do with Zayn, but he can’t figure out what that something is. If he’s gonna die here, he’d at least like to know why.

Lord knows Niall doesn’t want to die. He’s barely 20 years old. He wants more time with the people he loves. The thought of never seeing them again is enough to make Niall sob hysterically once his kidnappers have left him alone for a bit. There's still so much Niall wants to do and achieve. He wants to prove to himself that he can succeed at something and make a career out of it. He still wants to see the world, learn an obscure language, get married. It’s not fair that his short life will end here.

He’s afraid because he doesn’t want to die. He’s never been more terrified in his life than he is right now. He can taste it in his mouth, feel it coursing through his veins, the sheer numbing terror. But if these scumbags really are going to kill him like logic is telling him, he won’t give them the satisfaction of showing any weakness. Of course he doesn’t know what his very last moments will be like, but he likes to think he won’t beg his captors for his life.

He thinks that maybe Zayn would be proud of that. If there is an afterlife out there when all this is over, out of everybody that Niall will miss he’ll miss Zayn the most. Probably because he loves him the most. Or maybe it’s just that he loves him differently from everybody else. He loves Zayn in a way which is unwavering and complete.

He falls in love with Zayn all over again every day, even though he knows better than anyone that Zayn is far from perfect. Zayn is petty sometimes; he needs constant praise and affirmation of his worth which is maybe why he’s managed to build this empire (every project needs to be bigger and better than the last); he’s sullen and argumentative when he’s in a bad mood. But he’s also the strongest person Niall knows. He’s sharp and intelligent in a way that turns Niall on and awes him in equal parts. Through his actions, Zayn loves Niall with everything he has even if he doesn’t always say the words. He’s Niall’s biggest cheerleader and he’s the one who insists that Niall can achieve absolutely anything, even when Niall himself doesn’t believe it. Niall loves all of him.

 ”Your boyfriend is really pissed that I took his favourite toy away.” The so-called leader of this operation suddenly waltzes in through the door of the room Niall is being kept in, announcing this with a malicious smirk. The cold calculating look in his dark eyes makes an involuntary shudder run through Niall. He realises that the call to Zayn has been made, but he can’t figure out if this is a good or bad thing. But he decides it’s bad - he doesn’t want Zayn bargaining with these people. They’re gonna kill him no matter what Zayn gives them.

Niall doesn’t say anything in response to the man who the other captors call Sal.

Sal cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, now you have nothing to say? I guess I should let Bubba know his  _mild_ beating actually worked and now we won’t have to listen to you whining and asking dumb questions.” 

Again, Niall says nothing, merely looks back at him just as steadily, just as coldly. The red-haired Bubba had untied Niall earlier and threw him around a little (a lot) before tying him back up. But really, the bruises and aches Niall now feels throbbing under his skin are the least of his worries. And hey, no bones are broken as far as he can tell.

“I almost feel bad for Zayn,” Sal continues, taking a leisurely walk around the room.  “There’s nothing he hates more than not being in control of a situation. And I think he wants to believe that if he pays the money, we’ll let you go.” Sal stops in front of Niall and bends down to whisper tauntingly into his ear, “But you and I know different, don’t we? I can see it in your eyes, baby. You know this is the end for you.” 

“Don’t call me baby.” 

Sal barks out a laugh. “Oh, he speaks again! What, you don’t like it when I call you baby? Lemme guess - Zee calls you that? Well, seeing as he’s never going to call you that again, I’d think you’d be glad to still be able to hear it from somewhere.” 

Niall feels eerily calm. “Not from you - If you’re not doing this for money, then why? How do you know Zayn? What do you want from us?” 

“The questions start again. I spoke too soon.” Sal rolls his eyes dramatically and throws his hands up in the air as if Niall is some insolent child. “Let’s not worry about my complicated relationship with Zayn Malik, baby. Instead let me let you in on a little secret -” 

Niall has only known Sal for a few hours but he’s extremely certain that he has never hated another person more in his life. The man is psychotic, Niall can see that clearly. At first glance Sal looks perfectly normal - brown hair, dark eyes, average looks, tall, about 30 years old. But a closer look at Sal reveals the unhinged chaos behind his eyes. The man is extremely sarcastic and likes to make dark jokes at Niall’s expense, but Niall knows that he would also snap his neck without blinking.

Sal continues, “I called Zayn from a motel room downtown and threw the phone away on the highway. I’m willing to bet the police traced the call and are rushing to that motel right now. Too bad they won’t find anything except for another personal note from me to Zayn.” 

Niall is sure of one thing. “You won’t get away with this. You can kill me, do whatever to me. But Zayn won’t just let this go. He’ll find you if it’s the last thing he does.” 

Sal merely nods. “Yes, I know. And I look forward to it.” Sal looks at him for a moment longer and then reaches downwards to brush one index finger down Niall’s cheek while Niall tries not to vomit. “I can see why he picked you, baby... He likes them pretty. I was a bit surprised by your age though at first. Usually he goes for the hardened experienced ones like himself. He likes people who can keep up with him. I was even more surprised when I discovered the full extent of his feelings for you. Didn’t think he had it in him.” 

“Don’t talk about him like you know what he’s about. You obviously don’t. You just think you do.” Niall realises that maybe he should just keep quiet. But really, there’s no point in trying to be nice and obedient.

Sal looks delighted. In a deranged kind of way. He throws his head back, laughing manically, and says, “The more I talk to you, the more I figure out why he did go for you. You seem kinda young and dumb at first, but there’s something more under the surface, isn’t there?” 

“You don’t know anything about me either.” 

Sal shrugs and then turns abruptly towards the door. Evidently their little talk is over. Before he shuts the door behind him he says, “I’m a fast learner.” 

And then Niall is left alone. The only contact he has for the rest of the day is when Mark, the youngest and last member of this crew, brings him a glass of water hours later and abruptly tips it into Niall’s parched mouth with barely a word. Then Mark is gone. Niall can’t even try to estimate what time it is because there are no windows in the room but he reckons it must be night-time by now. And Niall has nothing but his thoughts to keep him company.

He can’t help but worry about whether Zayn will be okay without him. He has a feeling that if he dies here in this warehouse, Zayn will feel like he’s been abandoned and left alone. Niall wants him to know that he would stay with him forever if he could. Niall is young and not very experienced, but even he is aware that what the two of them have is the real deal. He wishes that there was a way of letting Zayn know how amazing life has been with him. Niall told him plenty of times while they were together, but he wishes he could tell him one more time.

Niall thinks about how he’ll never get to see his nephew grow up and he thinks about how devastated his mother will be by all of this. He laughs a little disparagingly at himself and thinks about how he should have started on his pastry chef dream way earlier; because now it’s too late and he’ll never get to find out if he’s good enough to actually make it.

Surprisingly, Niall manages to fall asleep in that cold uncomfortable chair and when he is woken up by Sal, he guesses that it’s now the next day because Sal is wearing different clothes than before. Niall groans as Sal rattles him awake; his limbs were already aching as it is without the added shaking.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Sal says as Niall glares at him. “We have an exciting day ahead of us. It’s also going to be your last, so try to enjoy it, yeah?” 

Despite himself, Niall pales. But he refuses,  _refuses_ , to cry in front of this man.

Sal unties Niall’s hands and points to the dirty red bucket in the corner of the room. “Do your business. Don’t need you pissing all over yourself later.” 

Niall really does need to pee but he’d prefer to do it away from this sick man’s eyes. Once he’s reached the bucket, he turns away from Sal and unzips his pants.

Sal merely laughs. “You don’t need to hide yourself, baby. I don’t really swing that way myself. I mean, I’m not against indulging in young men from time to time but mostly I’m a ladies man. Although, I wouldn’t mind a taste of a pretty thing like you... Alas, I don’t think there’s time.” 

Niall gags suddenly into the bucket as he imagines this man on top of him, touching him. But his stomach is empty anyway so nothing comes out.

When he turns around, he stops dead and his blood runs cold at the livid way Sal is looking at him. Sal’s face is dark red with rage, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. Sal spits out, “You’re just like the others, aren’t you? I bet you jumped straight into his bed the first day you met him, but I make you want to vomit?” 

Where the  _hell_ did that come from? Niall gulps. Realises that he’s in trouble here. Decides that the best thing to do is to say coolly, “No. It has nothing to do with you. I haven’t eaten in over a day. I’m being held here against my will in this damp smelly room. Excuse me if I’m feeling a bit ill.” 

Sal’s face clears a little. Then he nods. “We’re not savages here. If you’re hungry, you can have some food. Consider it the last supper, of sorts.” 

Niall is really hungry but not hungry enough to eat anything given to him by these guys. Water is another thing; he kind of needs that to survive. So he just says, “I think it will make me sicker if I try to eat so early. Maybe just some water or juice for now?” 

Sal calls out to the other guys to bring in some orange juice and a minute later Mark comes into the room carrying a glass of juice in one hand as he chomps down on the juicy-looking sausage in his other hand. Vaguely, Niall reckons it must be breakfast time around here and he wonders if all three of them slept somewhere nearby. That sausage looks good but Niall is not about to back down and ask for some. Instead he takes the glass from Mark and slowly sips from it, trying to make the delicious liquid last for as long as possible. Mark walks out of the room, chewing noisily as he departs and Niall feels the urge to gag again.

Sal watches Niall for a moment before a slow worrying smile spreads on his face. “Zayn doesn’t know you’re as good as dead. I’m sure it’s crossed his mind, but I’m willing to bet he hopes he’s wrong. So today is the day we learn just how far he’s willing to go to get you back.” 

Niall keeps drinking, but inside his chest his heart is pounding relentlessly again. He has no doubt that this day is going to be the most horrible one of his life. The fact that it also appears to be his last is just an “added extra".

“Why are you doing this?” Niall asks quietly. “What do you have against Zayn that makes you think all of this is necessary or justified?” 

“Your precious Zayn. Prince of the whole fucking town. He’s had this coming for years.” Sal’s mouth is in a grim line and his eyes seem far-away from where Niall stands. He seems to snap out of it and he says, “Drink up, blondie. We need to get going.” 

“Where are we going?” Niall isn’t actually expecting an answer but he gets one.

“Bubba’s house,” Sal answers easily.

Niall’s hands are tied up again and he is led out of the room and out of the dilapidated abandoned warehouse. Just like when they brought him here the day before, nobody bothers to blindfold him. He’s pushed into the back of the van again and he lands awkwardly on his side and notes with a wince that he’s currently in a lot of pain, he'd almost forgotten about it. Most of all his knee is killing him from when he fell on it trying to fight them off inside the van when they first took him, but everything hurts. He wonders what he’d see if he looked into a mirror but he guesses that his face must look like pretty bad - uninhibited punches from a big guy like Bubba will do that to you. Least of Niall’s problems, really.

They drive for a while, Mark in the back of the van with Niall, and Sal up front with Bubba. Niall closes his eyes and focuses on the happiest memory he can think of - his last birthday when Zayn came home with him for the weekend and met his family.

The car ride takes what feels like 30 minutes to Niall before the van stops completely. He’s led out of the car again and into a small neat isolated farmhouse.

“Why did you bring me here?” Niall asks as the four of them enter the living room. It doesn’t escape his notice that two of them are walking behind him while one walks ahead of him - as though Niall would be dumb enough to try to run. They all carry strapping guns around their waists and Niall has no intention of dying before he absolutely has to.

This time he doesn’t get an answer to his question.

Bubba pushes Niall down into an armchair.

“First test for your lover, baby,” Sal says to Niall. “Yesterday I asked him to put together 500 000 in exchange for your release and he agreed so readily. Very nice of him. But let’s see if he’ll be as willing when I up the stakes to one million bucks, in cold hard cash. That’s what the note I left for him at the motel says. What do you think? Think you’re worth a million?” 

Niall swallows. That’s a lot of money. And it’s not that he thinks there are limits to what Zayn would do for him. But. That’s a lot of money. He doesn’t say anything.

The three men ignore him after that and he does the same to them. The armchair is much more comfortable than the chair he spent the last day in so he rests his sore body, tries not to think about how this house is likely to be the scene of his death. Over the next hour he hears a lot of the conversation going on around him as the men seem to be talking freely and he deduces the following: a) one of the three is driving to another motel to call Zayn again and find out if he’s willing to get the money delivered to a specified location; b) if Zayn agrees he is not meant to tell the police about the drop-off but is meant to arrange for it secretly and c) if any police are sighted, Niall will be shot right then. Niall listens to all this numbly. He’s been pretty numb since he woke up and he wonders if it’s his mind’s way of protecting itself.

He’s numb until Sal walks over to him, swigging a beer.

Sal says to him, “When you’re dead, I’m going to make sure that Zayn gets reminded every single day that this whole thing is because of him. That you died because of  _him_.” 

Niall freezes and then shakes his head. “No. Don’t you fucking dare.” A few tears finally escape down his face that he doesn’t even bother trying to restrain.

“I think,” Sal says without skipping a beat, “I should also tell him how your last words were that you wished you’d never met him at all because if you hadn’t met none of this would have happened to you.” 

Niall is beginning to realize the full extent of the evil inside Sal. Niall knows how much those words will completely destroy Zayn. “That’s a lie. He’ll know you’re lying.” 

“Will he? Are you sure?” 

No, Niall is not sure at all.

Sal leaves shortly after this, to go make the call. In this time, Bubba takes Niall from the living room and dumps him in the bedroom, seemingly not bothered at all when Niall lands with a thud on the wooden floor beside the low bed.

Niall closes his eyes, doesn’t even bother trying to get up. He just closes his eyes and thinks about his birthday memory again, this time thinking about thinking about how happy and proud (and a little shocked) he’d been as he watched Zayn play a game of soccer with his little cousins. Sometime into Niall’s trip down memory lane, Mark comes into the room and unties him so that he can use the bathroom. Mark casually announces that apparently Zayn agreed to the 1 million and Sal is beyond pleased at how well his plan is going. Mark reveals that he’s been promised a tenth of the money. And Niall wants to cry because firstly Zayn is giving these people everything they want and he will get exactly nothing in return, and secondly the fact that Niall’s captors are revealing every bit of their plan as if it’s nothing isn’t very comforting.

Niall doesn’t ask where the drop-off is going to be and he doesn’t ask where Zayn is getting that much money in cash in so few hours; he honestly doesn’t want to know.

He does ask, “So when am I going to be killed? After Sal has his money?” He’s proud of the way his voice doesn’t waver.

Mark looks at him and Niall thinks he almost detects a touch of sympathy in that look. “Sal’s not done with you just yet. He needs you around for step 2 still. He says he won’t stop until he’s taken everything from Zayn - his fortune, his empire, the only person he loves. He’s gonna take it away from Zayn just like Zayn took it away from him.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Zayn doesn’t care how much money they want. Well, actually that’s not quite right. He does care about the money. But of course, he cares about Niall way more. No contest there.

So he’s willing to give them what they want, but not without them doing something for him. He needs some kind of reassurance that Niall is still alive. He’s tried not to let his mind go there, but the truth is that this person who clearly despises him might have killed Niall a day ago. All Zayn wants in return for the 1 million is the chance to talk to Niall.

He can’t tell the police about the new deal,  _that_  much was made very clear. Lying to the detectives doesn’t sit right with Zayn, but what can he do? The kidnappers had texted Zayn the new ransom demand on his private number this morning because the police were tracing phonecalls on his landline. And when the captors texted back five minutes later, it was from another number so Zayn figured they’d already thrown the first phone away. The second text said that they’d call the landline later that day with another demand - non-monetary and no drop-off would be involved this time so it didn’t matter if the police found out about it. Zayn had texted back immediately to that second number saying that he’d give them whatever, as long as they release Niall.

Zayn thinks the one called Tomlinson suspects something is going on. Louis has been watching him very closely all day, blue eyes quick and sharp and missing absolutely nothing. But then again, maybe Detectives Tomlinson and Styles are just like the officers back at the station who called Zayn in for questioning the night before and interrogated him for hours.

Five minutes into their questioning, it had become obvious that they suspected he knew more than he was saying about Niall’s kidnapping. One of them was obviously trying to play “good cop’ by appearing to be on Zayn’s side. That guy said smoothly across the interrogation table, “We understand how these things happen. We know you have a bit of a chequered business past. Not really unusual in businesses as large as yours. And hey, legally you’re clean. You’ve never been convicted of anything - But maybe your boyfriend discovered something that would change all that. Maybe he found out about something that would get the police to start asking a lot more questions. And you couldn’t have that. Not after you’ve worked so hard all these years to build what’s rightfully yours. Maybe you and your associates had him kidnapped, you arranged for him to  _disappear_. You never really meant for any of this to happen. You just needed him to shut up - If you tell us right now exactly what happened the day he disappeared, you’ll make things a lot easier for yourself.” 

Logically Zayn knew that the police are trained to question the people closest to missing people because that’s usually where the answers are, but what these officers said to him still surprised him, horrified him.

The fact that anybody would think he would ever harm Niall in any way actually hurt more than anything. Well, Zayn was awfully hurt  _at first_  but now, he is livid. He is beyond enraged by the incompetency of these imbeciles. He wants to yell and tear that station down and have them all fired. Because while the police were busy wasting time questioning  _him_ , the clock was ticking for Niall. They should have been trying to find him. Not asking Zayn where he is.

He hopes they’re trying to find him now. When Zayn had resolutely and angrily denied knowing Niall’s location during the interrogation, eventually the line of questioning had shifted to Zayn’s long list of enemies. Zayn was made to name every single person who might potentially be harbouring a big grudge against him. And the list wasn’t short. He’d already been trying to figure out on his own who would do this and he honestly didn’t know.

Harry had told him that he shouldn’t blame himself for not being able to come up with an answer. The two of them side by side on the patio taking a break (Zayn smoking his millionth cigarette with shaky hands), Harry had explained that people who commit these kind of crimes “are hardly ever outwardly crazy. You get two types of kidnappers. What we call the career kidnapper who’s in it for the money, who’s usually working in a large underground well-organised operation. Those kidnappers will generally let their victims go once they get their money, unless something doesn’t go according to plan.” 

Harry had sighed and turned to face Zayn directly. “Then you get the other kind, which is what we’re obviously dealing with here. Somebody who appears normal and who is able to function effectively in society. They may secretly harbour dark thoughts or grudges against people in their lives but they don’t act on them. Until one day their situation becomes desperate, something happens that makes them want to seek what they deem to be revenge. We call that something a trigger. That person snaps and does things like this. And it’s not about the money.” 

All of this is all very good and well, nice general knowledge to be informed about. But Zayn still needs to know who took Niall and it’s driving him to insanity that the answer is right there in his mind somewhere but he doesn’t know how to pick the right one. This whole thing is his fault and he isn’t even smart enough to figure out exactly why. If Niall dies because of him, he might as well be dead too. But then again, death would be too good, too easy a punishment for himself.

It’s been over 24 hours since Josh saw Niall being taken and all Zayn can do is comply with the demands of arrogant criminals. One million bucks, in cold hard cash. He has the means of getting the money, luckily. It won’t be easy, it will mean withdrawing large sums from different bank accounts. He’s not dumb enough to think that the police won’t eventually pick up on the withdrawals and question him. He just prays they only catch on after the payment has been made. Like Harry said, this situation is not about money. This is personal. But Zayn can’t take the chance of not paying these bastards what they’re asking for. Way too much at stake.

As a businessman, Zayn had always believed that he thrived on pressure and stress. But now he thinks he was wrong. There is nothing exciting about this constant feeling of dread. There is nothing thrilling about the burden of knowing how horrible the consequences will be if he makes one wrong move.

He needs to get out of this house to go withdraw the money, sooner rather than later. He’s pretty sure a couple of the bank managers will want to speak to him in person. But this past day it’s been damn near impossible to even leave to take a piss without officers immediately rising and asking him where he’s going.

Now, Zayn speaks to the youngest one, the officer he reckons will ask the least questions. Zayn tells Officer Dan Richards that he’s going to his business premises for an hour or two, to look through some old documents and meeting minutes to see if anything will jog his memory about who could be behind this. As soon as Zayn says it, he realises it’s actually a good idea and he decides he’ll do exactly that as well as getting the money together.

He slips out the front door without anybody else noticing and drives to ZJ Malik Enterprises, a high-rise building in the centre of the business district from which the marketing, legal and supply chain management aspects of all Zayn’s companies are run. He parks haphazardly outside the building and runs into the building and while he’s waiting for the elevator he types a few texts to the personal cellphone lines of his three bank managers to inform them that he will be making sizeable withdrawals today. And that he doesn’t have time to meet with them about it unless it’s absolutely necessary.

A minute later he reaches the top floor of the building and he’s almost surprised when he sees his personal assistant Mrs Drew sitting behind her desk on the personal floor where only he and she work - he’d kind of forgotten that it is a normal working day and that people would be carrying on doing what’s expected of them even as Zayn’s world is going to ruins. He nods at her briefly as he stalks past but ignores her when she asks if Niall has been found yet. He doesn’t have much time so he rifles as quickly as he can through his cabinets, grabbing meeting notes from his biggest business deals and then he takes the large briefcase he keeps in the corner of his office.

He storms past Mrs Drew again with these contents in hand and a few minutes later he’s inside his car driving to the large investment bank on the other side of town where he keeps the majority of his wealth. He finds that being the bank’s biggest client has its perks - he’s taken to a vault downstairs and allowed to load the bank notes into a briefcase with little trouble. Same at the next bank. It’s only at the third where the bank manager insists on calling him into his office.

“Does this have anything to do with your boyfriend? I read in the paper this morning that he’s been taken,” the old kindly manager says, peering at him over his glasses. “Mr Malik. We’ve known each other a long time and I want to help you if you’re in trouble. But I need to know whether you’re taking this money out because you’re being forced to.” 

Zayn stands impatiently in front of the manager’s desk, having not even bothered to sit down, and he lies easily and curtly, “This does have to do with Niall. I’ve hired the best private investigator in the country to try and find him. This investigator doesn’t come cheap and he wants his payment in cash. My boyfriend’s life is at stake here and we’re wasting time talking about this right now. It’smy money, I put it into your bank for sake-keeping and now I’m taking it out. As is my right.” 

Zayn  _did_  actually get his uncle’s help in hiring a private investigator the day before. But with no leads, no licence plate number on the van, no cctv footage of the bakery street where Niall was taken and no clue who the perpetrators are, Zayn isn’t really expecting much to come out of that.

The manager still looks concerned despite Zayn’s explanation, but he relents.

And soon enough Zayn has 5000 bank notes (200 bucks each) packed neatly into the briefcase and then he’s on his way back to the mansion. Time-wise he thinks he’s okay; the whole trip only took two hours. The captors had said they would be calling at 2 pm and it’s now 1 pm. When that call comes, Zayn has every intention of making some demands of his own.

“Where have you been?” Louis demands suspiciously as soon as Zayn enters through the front door. Louis’ hands are on his hips in a manner which Zayn would usually find ridiculous but which is quite intimidating on this person. “Do we need to keep a tail on you, Zayn?” Louis is standing right in front of the wide entrance to the house. Obviously he’d been waiting for Zayn.

“Went to get some stuff from the office that might be of some help. Wasn’t aware I was a prisoner in my own home.” Zayn holds up the folders of meeting minutes as proof. (The briefcase is safely stored in the boot of his car.)

“You were gone an awfully long time. Takes two hours to fetch a couple folders?” 

Anybody who knows Zayn knows that when necessary, he can lie under pressure as though it’s nothing. “Had trouble finding some of the older documents. Had to call in my deputy manager from a meeting on the other side of town to come and give me some of the notes he keeps in his office.” 

Louis’ eyes narrow as he looks at Zayn even more closely. “This isn’t 1982, Zayn. You should have electronic files of everything.” 

“I like the feel of paper.” That part actually isn’t a lie.

Louis says nothing. Zayn knows that the detective doesn’t quite believe him but quite frankly he doesn’t care right now. A text comes through on his phone as they’re standing there staring each other down and he immediately fishes his Blackberry out of his pocket to read it.

_Big red trashcan. Dartmouth Road. 6 am tomorrow morning_

So that’s where he’s supposed to leave the money. The detectives will leave the house at night and come back in the morning with only one officer staying behind overnight to watch over things, so Zayn knows he’ll manage to make the drop-off.

Louis is still watching him with  _that look_  on his face so Zayn walks past him and goes down the hallway into the living room. He immediately regrets going in there because Louis’ partner Styles is sitting on the couch with two officers flipping through files that Zayn knows nothing about. But the reason Zayn regrets it is because Styles immediately stands up and asks to speak to Zayn alone in the kitchen.

Wordlessly, Zayn follows him through the house and into the kitchen. Zayn has pretty much avoided coming into here since yesterday. Everything in this room reminds him of Niall.

Harry jumps onto the counter top and takes a comfortable seat. “Where did you disappear off to?” 

Zayn rolls his eyes impatiently. “Already been through this with your partner. I went to the office to get some files.” 

Harry is quiet for a moment. And then he says, “You can tell me if something else is going on. You know that right? We’re here to help. I want to help you but I can’t do that if I don’t know everything.” 

Zayn opens the lurid pink refrigerator Niall had insisted on picking out when Zayn remodelled the house four months ago. He takes out a can of soda, pops it and takes a sip. Now that he’s actually in the kitchen he might as well try to get some form of nutrition inside his body, seeing as he can’t actually remember when he last ate.

He faces Harry again and says, “Despite what you and your partner may think, there isn’t some huge operation going on behind the scenes without your knowledge. I just want to find Niall alive and in one piece.” 

Harry nods. “I know you do. I get it - Don’t roll your eyes. I really do get it, I’m not just saying that.  In this profession I’m in, I know what it feels like to want to keep the person you love safe. I understand that there isn’t really a limit to what you’d do when they’re in harms-way.” 

Harry jumps off the counter and comes to stand next to Zayn. After a momentary pause he says in a softer voice, “Louis isn’t just my partner. And I shouldn’t be telling you this because it’s not professional of me. But I want you to understand that I get it. He’s my boyfriend. And this job is dangerous. I know what it’s like to just want to  _keep him safe_ , no matter what trouble I’ll get in myself.” 

Zayn considers this for a moment. Then he realises that he doesn’t really want to lie to Harry anymore.  So he says, “I know you want to help. But like you said, my first priority is to keep my boyfriend safe. Just let me handle this.” 

Louis walks into the kitchen right then and the first thing he says is directed at Zayn, “So have you stopped lying yet?” 

Now that he knows the deal between the two of them, Zayn can actually see it for himself. The way when Louis first enters the room, his eyes immediately and warmly seek out Harry’s for just a moment.

“I need to get Niall out of this,” is all Zayn says.

Louis nods. “We know. That’s what we want too, you stubborn arse.” The way he says it, the insult doesn’t actually sound like an insult. It sounds almost fond.  

Louis continues, “If you need to go somewhere and you’ve been told not to involve the police, that doesn’t actually mean there doesn’t need to be police there. We know how to be discreet. We can watch the area, watch out for  _you_ , without anybody even knowing we’re there.” 

“Not necessary.” Zayn isn’t willing to take the chance.

He leaves the kitchen then and goes into the garden out back to smoke his umpteenth cigarette and wait for the call. Nobody else knows that time the call is coming but Zayn does.

At 10 minutes to 2 o’clock he heads back inside and sits beside Harry on the living room sofa. The phone rings shrilly at 2 pm sharp and Louis comes into the room, makes sure his equipment is in place and then he gives the signal for Zayn to answer. The call is on speakerphone so that everybody in the room can hear.

“Hello.” 

“Zee,” the garbled voice says. “Missed you since our last chat yesterday.” 

“Can’t say the same. Where’s Niall?” 

“Feisty little thing, that one. Wouldn’t mind him for myself. I can see it right now. Those big baby blue eyes looking up at me. That tight little ass.” 

Zayn stiffens and in the space of one second goes from worried to absolutely livid. The kind where your hands shake. He can barely get the words out. He wants to scream and he wants to kill. “If - if you touch him, if you fucking dare - You will be sorry you were ever born, you fucking piece of shit.” 

The voice laughs. “Knew that would get a reaction out of you - You never were good at sharing, Zee. A man just wants a taste but Zayn has to be all selfish about it.” 

Zayn closes his eyes. “Fuck. Just - leave him alone - Please.” Zayn isn’t one to say please to anybody but if there’s any chance that it will stop this sicko from touching Niall, he’s prepared to say it. “Niall doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“Maybe.” The caller concedes. “But you do.

“So come after me then!” Zayn bellows. “Keep him out of this.” 

“I  _am_ coming after you by doing all this. In the way which will hurt you the most. By the time I’m done with you, we’ll see who regrets the day they were born.” 

Beside him, Harry shakes his head.

“You won’t get away with this,” Zayn says as calmly as he can.

“We’ll see. Anyway, enough of the pleasant chitchat. There’s a purpose behind this call. I need you to do something for me Zayn,” the voice says slowly.

“Already told you, you can have anything you want. In exchange for Niall. Niall alive and unharmed.” 

“Anything I want? Like, your entire business? The entire ZJ Malik empire? You still sure I can have anything I want?” 

Zayn closes his eyes, tiredly. He hasn’t slept in well over a day and this whole game this kidnapper is playing is wearing him out. “What are you talking about?” he asks.

“I want you to sign over your whole business. Legally, bindingly. I don’t care to who. It can’t be me obviously, can’t make finding me that easy for you. Sign it over to the man on the street. To your great aunt Mildred. I don’t care. I just don’t want you to have it.” 

Zayn is stunned, unmoving. But next to him, Harry gestures for him to say yes. Zayn trusts him so he does as Harry’s telling him to. “Fine. I’ll sign over my company. But not before you do something for me.” 

“You’re not really in any position to be making demands, Zee.” 

“And surely you can understand why I can’t just give you my money and business without any reassurance that he's actually okay. The last time anybody saw sign of him even being alive was yesterday outside the bakery. I want to talk to him.” Again Harry and Louis nod their approval.

The voice sounds cold when it sounds again from the phone speakers. “I was expecting as much. At the end of the day you’re still a businessman, Zayn. You won’t give away anything without guaranteed returns.” 

“My boyfriend is not returns. Let me talk to him. I need to know that he’s alright.” 

“Like I said, I’d be surprised if you hadn’t made this request. And you know what? I’m feeling kind. You can talk to him. I usually make these calls alone but I brought him with me this time. You’re very predictable, Zee. Or maybe it’s just that I know you better than anybody. Better than Niall even.” 

All Zayn hears in all of that is that Niall is there. “Let me talk to him,” he says again and in the back of his mind, he notes that his voice has taken on an almost frantic tone.

“Consider this my last kindness,” the voice says. The call is dropped. A minute later the phone rings again, and Louis’ caller ID register that’s connected to the phone shows a different number this time.

Zayn picks it up. “Niall?” 

“Yes. It’s me.” Niall’s voice is so small. And then Zayn hears him crying. “I’m really happy to hear your voice, Zayn. Didn’t think I’d get to hear it again.” 

Zayn can’t believe it’s actually him. He tries not to cry himself as he asks, “Are you okay? Baby, where are you? Tell me who’s got you.” 

He hears a sob being choked back and then, “I can’t tell you. He said he’ll slit my throat right now if I tell you.” 

Fuck. “Niall. I’m so sorry. This is all because of me. I don’t know why. But he’s mad at me, not you. I’m so sorry. I’m doing everything I can to find you.” 

“I know you are. He said we can’t talk for long but I need to say something. No matter what happens - I need you to know this isn’t your fault. And I need you to know that meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me, okay? I love you, Zayn. Always. No matter what anyone says to you.” 

Zayn isn’t exactly sure what Niall means by that last part but it feels important to tell him, “I hear you, baby. I love you too. Always.” And then he tells him, “Meeting you made my life. I love you so much and I wish I’d told you that more often.” Zayn thinks he sees Louis inconspicuously wiping away a tear but he can’t be sure.

Niall says, “I know you love me. It’s what’s keeping me going right now.” 

Zayn wants to tell Niall that everything is gonna be fine, that he’s gonna get him out of this. But he can’t take the chance of the last thing he ever told Niall ending up being a lie. So all he says is, “You’re so strong, baby. I need you to keep being strong, okay? I'm not gonna rest until I find you, I promise you that.” 

When Niall speaks again, Zayn is pretty sure there’s some strange undercurrent in his voice. “Zayn, I miss you. I miss falling asleep with you, I miss watching movies with you. Remember when we watched that James Dean movie, Rebel Without A Cause?” 

Zayn is more than a little surprised by this change in topic. But still he says, “Yes I remember, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah. I was just thinking about that movie and about you. Remember the way the John character idolized James Dean’s character? That’s probably what people thought of me when I was around you. Following you around like a lost puppy -” 

Um. Okay? “I think it was the other way around, baby. I adore you.” 

Niall still continues with his strange line of conversation. “Yeah, guess I can really identify with that John character. I think he’s my favourite in the whole movie. Watch it again tonight so I know you’re thinking of me? He’s about to cut the call, I have to go.” 

Niall is trying to tell him something with this John stuff but for the life of Zayn he can’t figure out what. As common as the name John is, it doesn’t ring any personal bells in Zayn’s head. He says in a rush, before the call is cut, “I love you. Do whatever you need to to stay safe.” 

“I love you, Zayn.” 

And then there’s only a dialling tone.

Louis is the first to speak amid the silence in the living room that follows. “What’s with the James Dean stuff? A special thing between the two of you or something?” 

But it’s not. That’s the weird thing. Yet, out of all the things in the world that Niall could have said to him during their potentially last conversation, he chose to bring up Rebel Without A Cause. It means  _something_.

He doesn’t have time to watch it like Niall asked so instead he takes Harry’s iPad from the coffee table and searches Rebel Without A Cause, clicking on the Wikipedia page.

He starts reading, paying particular attention to information on the John character. It doesn’t say much - just that John was 15 years old, nicknamed Plato and abandoned by his father. Then Zayn sees the name of the actor who played John.

He stops when he sees it. Thinks, “Nah” at first.

 _Sal Mineo._ Is the name of the actor.

Zayn knows a Sal.

It seems like a long shot. But then the more Zayn thinks about it, everything starts making sense.

“I need you guys to look up Salvatore “Sal’ Lombardi,” Zayn says in a rush to Harry who’s closest to him. “He’s already on that long list I gave the cops. He’s an old business associate of mine. An old - friend.” 

“You figured out who’s doing this,” Louis says, looking ecstatic.

Zayn smiles a little and he’s never in his life been more proud of anyone than he is of that blond blue-eyed angel. “I didn’t figure it out. Niall told me.” 


	5. Chapter 5

This whole thing is starting to make sense to Zayn, but at the same time it makes absolutely no sense. It’s strange to him that something which happened so long ago in his past and which is pretty insignificant to him in the grander scheme of things, apparently affected someone so much that they would go to these lengths. Someone crazy, obviously. Because normal people don’t do shit like this.

They’re not exactly friends anymore. But they used to be. Salvatore Lombardi always had a bit of a wild streak, but Zayn would have previously described him as enthusiastic, high-strung, unruly sometimes. Not psychotic. Zayn is well aware that their friendship didn’t exactly end on a high note, but he wouldn’t have ever guessed things would come to this.

But all of that is neither here nor there; it really doesn’t matter. At least not right now. Right now, Zayn needs to figure out where Sal is keeping Niall. When they spoke on the phone earlier, the  _way_  Niall said I love you, it was like he was saying goodbye. Like he wasn’t expecting to make it home.

He has to make it home. Zayn needs him back here, and he needs to be able to tell him face to face how sorry he is for all this and how much he loves him. There can’t be any other ending to this. If this does end badly, Zayn won’t recover. He knows that much with absolute certainty. For a few seconds when he lets his mind go there, he has trouble imagining exactly what he’ll do if Niall dies. It’s hard to imagine what your reaction will be to the very worst thing you can possibly think of.

As soon as he’d gotten off the phone with Niall, Zayn had given the police a list of Sal’s closest friends and associates that he knew of, and Harry’s told him that right now they’re looking up the locations of properties that are registered under Sal’s name. And in the meantime Zayn’s personal assistant Mrs Drew is calling up a few of his subordinates who used to work directly with Sal to find out if they might know anything that may be of help.

But while they are all busy looking into Sal’s background, Zayn’s not just gonna sit tight and wait. He remembers that Sal used to own a glass bottle manufacturing warehouse a few hours away from this town. Well technically he probably still owns it but the place went out of business a couple of years ago. An abandoned, quiet warehouse would be the perfect place to store somebody you want to kept hidden. So that’s where Zayn’s gonna start looking.

Louis tells him some crap about, “Let the cops scope the place out before you go running in there, Zayn. Let us do our job.” But Zayn is already half-way out the front door of the mansion and with a curse, Louis follows and gets into the car with him, texting Harry back at the station to let him know where they’re headed.

“You’re going to get yourself killed,” Louis says with a frown once they’re on their way.

 _I don’t care if I do. I just need to find him first,_ Zayn wants to say. But he reckons it’s not in his best interest to appear reckless or overly-impulsive in front of an officer of the law. They drive in silence to the warehouse in the next town over, where Zayn first met Sal 5 years ago. It takes a couple of hours but for Zayn it feels like an entire day. He doesn’t know whether it’s a genuine hunch or whether it’s just him being sickeningly worried like he’s never been in his life before, but he has this bad  _bad_ feeling that he needs to find Niall today. He feels like tomorrow or any day after that will be too late. It’s night-time now, dark outside. Time is running out.

In the back of his mind, Zayn is praying that he’s correctly interpreted what Niall was trying to tell him. The horrible alternative is that Zayn has sent everybody on a wild goose chase and they’re all wasting even more time while God knows what’s happening to Niall.

He and Louis drive into the large parking lot outside of the old warehouse and as soon as he’s parked the car, Zayn is up and out, already running towards the building within seconds. Louis mutters a few choice phrases under his breathe and goes after him.

“Zayn!” Louis calls after him as he slams the car door behind him too. “For fuck’s sake, at least let me go in first. If I have to call for back-up, I’d rather not have to call for an ambulance to come carry your dead body away too! Say there’s trouble in there, huh? How exactly are planning on defending yourself?” 

Zayn stops suddenly right in front of the warehouse and waits for him because Louis is right. A dead Zayn will be of no use in getting Niall out of this. When Louis catches up with him a second later, Louis shakes his head and says sharply, “Get behind me. And could you do me a small favour and use your fucking head? If that’s not too much to ask?  _Do not_ go running off by yourself again.” 

Zayn says nothing but he does let Louis lead the way as they slowly walk into the ex-factory. Louis withdraws his weapon and holds it in place in front of him as he walks into the room. “You’d think a place like this would be locked up. Looks like it hasn’t been used in years. Unless of course you’re right and it’s been used very recently.” he remarks thoughtfully.

“Let’s hope I’m right.” 

The dilapidated building is exactly as Zayn remembers it inside - a massive long and wide well-lit space with a high ceiling, except now the floor isn’t filled with carts and cranes like it used to be. Now, it’s completely empty and the benefit of that is that the two men can immediately see that nobody is lurking behind any cardboards or shelves about to shoot at them.

But there are rooms right at the back that Zayn recalls Sal using for private meetings. He points out the door in the middle of the back wall and says to Louis, “We should go check there.” He starts making his way over there but is stopped by Louis’ furious hiss, “What the fuck did I  _just_  tell you less than one minute ago?” 

Zayn sighs, stops. He lets Louis pass in front of him and follows closely behind. The door at the back leads to a narrow hallway that branches into four other rooms, one of which is a kitchen. Zayn immediately senses that this part of the warehouse is empty too and this leaves him crushingly disappointed. He knows that it had been a long shot that he’d find Niall here, but he doesn’t have any other ideas about where he could be. Actually, he had a million ideas back at the house but knowing that 99% would end up being dead leads, he’d gone with what he’d thought was the most likely one.

He can’t hear a single thing apart from his and Louis’ footsteps, and every door is wide open allowing them to see inside. They peek into the first two old meeting rooms and find nothing but dust and a rank musty smell. But when Zayn looks into the third mostly-empty room, his heart stops. There’s a low wooden chair in the middle of the room and a red bucket in the corner. But that’s not what makes him freeze. Right on the floor next to the chair legs, Zayn sees something that causes him to say in a hoarse whisper, “He was in here. Niall was here.” 

Louis looks relieved. “That’s great, means we’re on the right track. What do you see in here that makes you so sure?” 

What Zayn sees is not much but it’s enough: a couple of brightly-coloured candy wrappers on the floor.

“The Starburst wrappers,” Zayn answers, his calm voice in contrast with the way a sudden burst of adrenaline has his heart is hammering unnervingly. “They must’ve fallen out of his pocket while he was in here... He eats a load of Starbursts every morning on his way to work and the housekeeper always has to tell him off because he forgets to take the wrappers out of his pockets before putting his clothes in the laundry.” 

Louis nods even as he pushes buttons into his phone and holds it to his ear. A second later, “Harry. The victim was here - No, I can’t tell how long ago, maybe we just missed them. But we need to figure out where they took him next.” 

He’s quiet for a few moments as he listens to Harry on the other end. Then he says, “Yeah, keep talking to people who know this Lombardi guy. At least now we’re sure we’re looking at the right suspect - I’m gonna ask Zayn a few more questions while we’re here. Maybe something will jog his memory.” 

Louis’ face softens after a pause and he murmurs, “You don’t have to say it every time. I’m always careful. I’ll be fine. Gotta stick around to look after you, right?” 

He hangs up and turns on his heel towards the last room they haven’t checked, the kitchen. In there, they are mildly surprised to find the last remnants of what appears to be breakfast - hardened grease sitting under fat sausages in one pan and a few spoonfuls of scrambled eggs in another.

“Nice of them to find time to cook themselves some food while my boyfriend is being kept hostage,” Zayn mutters darkly.

Zayn moves towards a cupboard to search its contents - he doesn’t know what he’s hoping to find - but Louis says before he gets very far, “Don’t touch anything in here. Forensic is gonna come in and dust for prints. Looks like we can assume the kidnappers were here from yesterday at least until breakfast today. Then they took him somewhere else after that, obviously. Whether they moved him before or after he spoke to you, I can’t be sure - The fingerprint processing is gonna take a while, so in the meantime you and me have to try and figure out a few things right here. Back at the house, you told us the general gist of why you think Salvatore Lombardi would hold your boyfriend for ransom. But I need you to tell me the whole story. Everything that happened.” 

“I don’t have time to  _talk_. I need to find Niall,” Zayn says impatiently, already trying to think of where to go next from here. To be frank, he doesn’t know. Niall could be anywhere.

Louis looks impatient right back. Or rather, indignant. “Unless you have some brilliant idea you haven’t clued me in on yet, talking is exactly how we’re going to find him. There’s something in your memories which will be useful. Or will at least lead in the right direction again. There’s  _something_. Harry says this is the only property Lombardi owns apart from his house. That’s been searched and nobody is there. Neighbours haven’t seen him in about a week. Right now Lombardi’s family members, associates and people linked to him in a personal capacity are being questioned. Most came in voluntarily. Harry says they’re having trouble getting a hold of a few others but he hopes to find them.” 

Louis leads him out of the kitchen and says, “Let’s leave the crime scene as it is, okay? We’ll go talk in the car. We’re not wasting time by doing this, I swear to you. It’s important.” 

After a pause Zayn nods and follows him down the hallway, through the warehouse and into the cool breeze outside. They step into the car and as soon as they’re both seated, Zayn starts talking immediately, “Wanna do this as quickly as possible. So we can get going and start looking for him again.” 

Louis raises an eyebrow and Zayn swears that he’s almost smiling. “Technically,  _we’re_  supposed to go out and look for him. ‘We’ meaning the cops. You’re not even meant to be here. Technically. But yeah, talk.” 

Zayn looks straight ahead and his mind goes way back to the start of all this. “I met Sal right here. Five years ago. This place used to be the main manufacturer of glass bottles for businesses in the entire district. Sal was doing really well for himself. When I bought the liquor store in our town five years, I was looking for ways to bring costs down so I met with him to see if he could provide bottles more cheaply than my then-supplier.

“What can I say, we hit it off -” Zayn is disgusted with himself now, but it’s a fact: as soon as they met, he and Sal got on spectacularly. “He was into the really flashy lifestyle, the kind that looks shiny and impressive from the outside. Women, parties, drugs, fast cars. And I was young. New money, if you will. I was very drawn to all that, I thought I wanted to live like that too. So for a long time, we did live like that.” 

Louis asks, “Back then was there ever any indication that he was unstable? Did anything he did or say ever alarm you in any way?” 

“Not really.” But then stops and really thinks about it. “I mean, I guess there were signs that he was kind of out there. Wild, a little crazy. He had a really bad temper and sometimes when he was drunk or high he’d babble on about how he hated that everybody laughed behind his back and talked about him. He’d keep saying they didn’t respect him. I never knew what the fuck he was talking about.” 

Louis shifts in his seat to face Zayn a little more directly. “He sounds deeply insecure, maybe with a touch of mild paranoia too. That’s typical of the type of people who commit revenge crimes of this nature.” 

 _Revenge crimes._  How the fuck did it come to this? Zayn sighs tiredly. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right about the insecurity. He was a really jealous controlling boyfriend, too. Kept his girlfriends on a tight leash. Towards the end of our friendship, he slapped one of them up pretty badly at a party because she took a picture with another man. He didn’t do it in front of everybody. He dragged her upstairs and when I saw her later, I tried to convince her to press charges but she refused. She denied that he was the one who’d done that to her face -” 

“You said towards the end of your friendship? Was the beating incident what led you guys to fall out?” 

“Kind of. But that wasn’t all of it.” Zayn sighs again. “I wasn’t having fun anymore. With him. We’d been friends for about 3 years at that point. All the partying and drinking and showing off we did got pretty boring after a while. I didn’t want to do it anymore. And then a week or so after that party where he fought with his girlfriend, I did something I’m not especially proud of. I slept with her. She came to my house late one night crying and in a complete state. It seemed like what she needed at the time. Not that I’m trying to imply I slept with her for her own needs -she was a beautiful girl, it was late at night, I was horny. One thing led to another -” 

“This is the girl named Alexa that you told us about back at the house?” Louis asks, his tone holding no judgement.

“Yes. Alexa. Anyway, I think he actually really cared about her. In whatever twisted way he was capable of caring about anybody, that is. She went to break up with him a few days after we had sex. She met him in a public place, for obvious reasons. He wouldn’t accept that she didn’t want to be with him anymore, so in the end she confessed that she’d slept with me.” 

Louis whistles and remarks, “From the little I’ve heard about him, I can imagine he wasn’t very happy with either of you.” 

Zayn laughs softly for a moment. “That’s putting it mildly. He came rushing into a business meeting I was in at my company headquarters and he caused a huge scene in front of everybody. He threw the meeting folders across the room, kicked a few chairs, punched me in the gut. Y’know, the usual. More humiliating for him than for me though - That was effectively the end of our personal and business relationship.” 

“Flashy ending to a flashy friendship.” 

“Pretty much, Detective. Anyway, I didn’t want to be in business with him anymore so I figured I needed to find another supplier for the glass bottles. Then I thought about it some more and I realised that there was absolutely no good reason why I couldn’t manufacture the bottles myself. Remove the middle man for my own businesses and supply to other companies, too. Long story short, that’s what I did.” 

Louis looks serious for a moment. “You started manufacturing something that was in direct competition with what Lombardi manufactured -” 

Zayn bristles and is immediately defensive. “Yes, I did. Maybe you are not aware but the business world is brutal. It’s not about making friends and then trying to stay out of their way. Whoever can produce the best products for cheapest, wins. Somebody owed me a favour and she knew of a cheap Chinese supplier of input materials for the bottles. She got me into contact with them. After that, I was able to produce bottles relatively cheaply and therefore charge lower prices to businesses in the area than Sal could. My factory boomed, his fell apart -” 

Suddenly, Zayn looks at Louis sharply and says, “That’s the way this world works. To stay ahead you need to be better than your competitors. He didn’t do that. So don’t judge me.” 

Louis shakes his head. “I’m not judging you. That’s not what I’m here for - I’m just trying to get an understanding of the full picture here. So I suppose after all that, you two didn’t have much contact?” 

Zayn is already sick of talking, he wants to start driving. But Louis insists that this is helping so Zayn says, “I never really spoke to him again after that. His cousin came by one day though. He stormed onto my property much like Sal had interrupted my meeting. His cousin worked at the warehouse Sal owned and when it went out of business I took on as many of the workers as possible. Their experience was valuable. But I couldn’t take everybody on, on top of my own workers. Bubba, Sal’s cousin, was one of the employees who lost out. Big tall fella. Mean. But then again, so are a lot of the people in Sal’s life.” 

Louis’ eyes light up ever so slightly. “Bubba. Bubba Spiteri. That’s one of the people on your list that Harry’s having trouble locating right now.” 

Finally this talking appears to be leading somewhere useful. “You think maybe he’s one of the kidnappers?” 

“It’s possible. Let’s drive back to town. Harry can meet us at your house. We’ll go check out more places from there. And  _you_  are going stay at home and try to see if you can remember anything else. You’re not a cop, Zayn. Let the trained professionals handle this. You can trust us. Okay?” 

Zayn coughs and starts the car so that he doesn’t have to answer.

The drive back to the mansion seems even longer this time around, as Zayn’s mind goes into critical heavy-duty planning mode. He’s running through a dozen possible locations in his mind of where they could be keeping Niall. One place stands out to him. If Bubba is involved in all this, Zayn knows where he might find Niall.

And he wants to tell Louis about it but if he does, Louis and Harry will go look for Niall without him, leaving Zayn to sit at home like a useless piece of shit. Sit at home as though this entire thing isn’t completely his fault. And hell will freeze over icy-cold before Zayn sits at home, warm and safe in a mansion while Niall is scared and in grave danger somewhere.

He remembers something else just as he drives past their town’s welcome sign. He says to Louis, “I don’t know if this matters but Alexa and I later dated. Like properly. For a couple of months before I met Niall. It didn’t work out between us. No hard feelings as far as I could tell, even though she kept calling for a while. By that time I hadn’t spoken to Sal in a while so I don’t think that’s connected to this.” 

Louis looks thoughtful as he considers this. Then he shrugs. “It might be. He might have found out somehow. Another nail in the coffin, maybe - I have one more question for you. When you slept with his girlfriend, Lombardi interrupted your meeting and caused a scene  - So, what was his reaction when you essentially took him out of business?” 

Zayn thinks back but he doesn’t have to think very hard before he remembers clearly. “At the time, his reaction seemed surprisingly tame by his standards - Now I’m not so sure. He had a short note delivered to my office. A few weeks after his warehouse closed down.” 

**Zee. The newspaper yesterday called you ‘Prince of the Town’. I suppose congratulations are in order. It would appear the student has become the teacher. But remember that old saying: karma is a bitch. Everything comes at a price. Watch out who you step on during your monumental rise to the top.**

**Friends to the bitter end,**

**Sal**

Zayn relays the gist of the note to Louis who nods and says solemnly, “I can see why that note would seem pretty harmless. A little bitter, but essentially harmless. However, in light of recent events, I think we can assume he was already warning you of his plan for revenge way back then. He’s just been biding his time ever since.” 

“I should have figured this out sooner,” Zayn mumbles.

Surprisingly, Louis burst out laughing. “Not really - Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not exactly the most popular guy in town. Before Niall gave you that clue, Harry and I were having a little trouble narrowing that list down - For a 28 year old who’s only been in business for 10 years, you sure have managed to piss off a lot of people. Lucky for you, most of them probably aren’t insane.”

“Yeah, laugh it up,” Zayn replies with a near-smile.

They’re driving up Zayn’s driveway now and can see Harry waiting for them at the end. They hop out of the car and Harry and his unhurried drawl meet them halfway, “We found most of the people we were looking for. One’s overseas on business so we can’t question him. We can’t locate Bubba Spiteri. His boss hasn’t seen him in a week. His brother hasn’t spoken to him in years and his sister is on her way to the station for questioning.” 

“Bubba might have something to do with this,” Louis explains to Harry. “He’s apparently not a fan of Zayn Malik either. Surprise, surprise. Have you checked if Bubba has any properties registered under his name?” 

“He doesn’t,” Harry says regretfully.

That answer doesn’t surprise Zayn. Bubba wouldn’t have the means to buy a house. Last time Zayn checked, Bubba’s sister allowed him to stay in the farmhouse she’d inherited from their parents while she lived with her husband and child in the city. The same sister who is evidently on her way to being questioned and will no doubt reveal all of this. The same farmhouse where Zayn plans on going to look for Niall.

He needs to get going  _now_. He tries to look as innocent as possible when Louis turns to him and says, “You’ll be alright here by yourself? If you remember something, call me. We’re heading back to the station talk to Bubba’s sister. Officers are still checking out Lombardi’s last-known hangouts. We’re going to find him, Zayn.” 

Zayn feels slightly guilty but he nods. He watches as they get into Harry’s car and then he walks towards his front door and enters the house. He waits five minutes before opening the door again and proceeding towards his car.


	6. Chapter 6

He drives in the opposite direction of Sal’s warehouse, heading east this time. Back when Zayn and Sal were friends, Bubba used to join them in their outrageous partying sometimes, although not often because Sal used to say to Zayn that his cousin wasn’t really of a high enough social calibre to be seen with regularly. On the nights when Bubba would join them, Zayn and Sal would often have to drive him back to the farmhouse the next day, all of them surly and hungover in the car. Fun times.

So Zayn knows very well where Bubba lives. Like Sal’s warehouse, the small house is isolated, with no neighbours in the near vicinity. Another perfect place to hold somebody against their will. The drive takes 45 minutes. This time, Zayn doesn’t park right outside the house. He doesn’t want whoever might be in that house to know of his arrival before he wants them to. This time he doesn’t have Louis with him and all he has to protect himself is the knife he keeps in his car. For years he’s been toying with the idea of getting a gun and right now he wishes that he had.

Zayn parks at the gas station in town and walks the rest of the way towards Bubba’s house, which takes him 15 minutes. His heart is pounding sickeningly, so hard he can hear the thrum of it in his ears. He’s not scared for himself, at least not yet. But he’s beginning to doubt that it was a good idea to come here alone. If Niall is being kept here, what if Zayn fucks this up somehow and ends up getting them both killed?

Zayn asks himself what would Louis tell him to do right now. (Well, obviously Louis would tell him to turn around and get back into his car.) But other than that, Louis would tell him to call for help from  _trained professionals._

As he nears Bubba’s house, Zayn dials the local town police, informs them of the situation and asks them to send officers to the Spiteri farmhouse. He also tells them to ask for Detectives Tomlinson and Styles in the next town over if they need more information directly from the officers on the case. He almost asks them to tell Louis and Harry that he’s sorry.

It’s pitch dark outside, which is expected since it's the country-side with no street lamps and high skyscrapers to light the way. But this is a good thing, because Zayn is able to walk directly to the farmhouse, stumbling a little against the thick tall grass, and he knows that he won’t be detected. He waits outside the farmhouse door and contemplates his next move. The police are probably on their way soon, should he just sit tight and wait for them?

But then he realises that after they speak to Louis and Harry and find out the extent of the situation, it’s unlikely that a lone police car will drive to the farmhouse alone. In a few minutes this place will be swarming with cops and this will undoubtedly catch the kidnappers off guard. Criminals who are caught off guard react rashly. They could shoot Niall right then and there, shoot themselves. Anything could happen and all Zayn knows is that Niall isn’t safe if he’s in there. He has to try and find him before the police arrive.

The front door is a screen-door that Zayn can pretty much see through. He can’t see or hear anybody close by so he takes off his shoes and enters the house gingerly, careful not to make a sound. He has the sharp knife clutched tight in his hand. He tiptoes down the hallway and stops when he hears a smattering of male voices. Legs shaky, he immediately shrinks against the wall and listens a little more closely. The voices sound far away, thankfully. But that means he can’t hear what they’re saying. He starts walking again, heart pounding when he passes an open door to a closet that he turns towards, knife ready to defend. There’s nobody in there.

Zayn closes his eyes for a moment and tries to recall the exact set-up of this house - the living room is nearby, the kitchen is further down. The bathroom and bedroom are on the furthest end of the house. Zayn peaks into the living room. Also clear. As he walks behind the old moth-ridden couch, he clearly hears the voices again. From inside the kitchen. Above the other quieter voices in there, Zayn hears snide laughter and a loud deep timbre of a tone. He hears his old buddy Sal.

He stops dead where he is. The hot searing rage he suddenly feels keeps him from moving. He wants to go in there right now and beat the fucking shit out of him until Sal is unrecognisable. But his mind clears a little because: Sal is  _here_ , which means if he hasn’t been killed already (God forbid) Niall is  _here_. Zayn has to find him.

Slowly, he edges out of the living room and further into the house to the only room left. If Niall’s not in the bedroom, Zayn’s going to have to leave undetected again and go search for him in the barn house and stables outside. But if he has to go look for him outside, the chances are higher that he will be searching for a corpse. He knows this.

Except he is there. Right there in the bedroom. Zayn just stands there for a second, looking, because he can’t quite believe his eyes aren't deceiving him. But there Niall is.

He’s lying in an awkward angle on his side with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied with another piece of rope. His eyes are closed but he’s not sleeping. Zayn can see that because the rise and fall of his chest is erratic, and tears are silently trailing down his face and he’s mumbling things that Zayn can’t quite catch from the doorway.

Zayn’s breath catches in his throat but he manages to whisper, “Niall - Baby.” 

Niall stills but he doesn’t open his eyes. A moment later he’s mumbling stuff again. Niall tries to bring his shoulder up towards his face to wipe his face on his shirt but it occurs to Zayn that it’s a bit of a pointless exercise because the tears just keep coming.

Zayn tiptoes into the room and says more insistently, “ _Niall_.” 

This time Niall’s eyes fly open and he stares at Zayn for a moment with wide shocked eyes. Actually it’s only one eye that’s wide and shocked because the other is nearly swollen shut with a nasty blue and greenish bruise. Niall shakes his head and whispers, "Zayn... _Zayn._  I heard you call my name. I heard your voice. But I thought I was just imagining it because I wanted so much for you to be here. I was praying so hard.” 

Zayn reaches the bed and bends over it. Niall’s face is battered and his lip is bust open. This entire scene makes Zayn want to weep or scream with fury. Probably both at the same time. “I’m right here. I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.” 

Niall starts crying again. “You found me. I didn’t think I’d get to see you again. He said he's going to kill me. T-today.” 

Zayn is busy untying Niall’s hands but his hands shake when he hears that part. He stops to kiss his cheek and he tells him, “I’ll always come and find you. Sweetheart, can you lie on your stomach? It’ll making untying these knots easier. We need to do this quietly.” 

Niall turns onto his stomach and Zayn kneels on the bed, making quick work of the tight knots in the piece of rope that holds Niall’s wrists together. As soon as his hands and legs are free Niall sits up and throws his arms around Zayn. Zayn can feel how badly he’s shaking. Rattling actually. Zayn doesn’t know if its fear or shock but he just wants him to be okay. He holds him crushingly tight and strokes his hair as the shaking abates. He loosens his hold when he realises that he’s probably hurting him but Niall lunges closer, clings to him and says sounding panicked, “No. Don’t let go.” 

After a short while Niall’s breathing evens out and he murmurs, “You’re here.” 

Zayn nods as he looks back at him. His face is so badly beaten, and it breaks Zayn's heart because this is the last person something like this is supposed to happen to. “I’m here. I'm right here and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again. You know that, right? There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you... Baby, we need to go now. I just need to get you outside. The police are on their way and I want you away from these people when that happens.” 

“Okay. I think they’re in the kitchen,” Niall says quietly and he grips Zayn’s hand as they climb off the bed.

“Not anymore,” a voice says in the doorway. Niall gasps and Zayn turns to find Bubba standing there ever so casually with his hands in his pocket, his huge size blocking the entire entrance. He’s exactly as dumb-looking as Zayn remembers him. Still gives off the same air of self-entitlement too.

Zayn’s eyes narrow and he takes a step closer, pushing Niall behind him. “Just let Niall leave. Here out the window, yeah? I’ll stay behind. I’m the one Sal wants.” 

Behind him Niall crushes his hand and says a quiet but firm, “No.” 

Bubba stands there for a moment looking back at them. And then without warning, he turns his head down the corridor and yells, “Sal? I think you’re gonna wanna see this!” 

“What? If you’ve let that little shit get away, I’ll just kill  _you_  instead. Somebody's dying tonight, you better make sure it's not you." Sal’s voice sounds faint from the kitchen but even from that distance it seems irritated.

“Oh he’s right here,” Bubba says back. “I still think you’ll wanna see this.” 

Zayn shoves Niall towards the window so quickly that he stumbles, his blue gaze stubborn as he frowns at Zayn. “No,” Niall says again even as Zayn forces the squeaky window open in a matter of seconds.

 _There’s no time to argue about this_ , Zayn thinks impatiently. And he’s right because Zayn blinks and then suddenly Niall is being shoved out of his reach. Niall goes flying backwards to land on the bed. Bubba is standing over him but he directs his words to Zayn. “Nobody’s going anywhere.” 

Sal’s cold laugh explodes into the room from the doorway. “Zee! I always tell you you’re predictable but I must admit you got me on this one. How did you find us? And you came alone?” 

Zayn says nothing, keeping his eyes on Niall. He's trying to figure out how he’s going to get him past two men with glistening black guns tucked into their waists. Bubba is guarding him so closely that Zayn doesn’t even know how to approach him without getting him killed, never mind how to get him out of this room.” 

Sal enters the room and stands in the middle of it. Smiling almost but his eyes are crazed, unfocused. Zayn wonders briefly if he still does drugs. Sal says softly, “You always knew we’d end up here, right? Zee? I was never going to just let you take everything away from me. I wasn’t about to just watch you get  _everything_ and do nothing.” 

Zayn shakes his head. “You’re crazy. I didn’t take shit away from you. Alexa was going to break up with you long before she and I did anything. And I didn’t take your business away, either. If I hadn’t been the one to figure out how to manufacture smarter, better, more cheaply than you. It would’ve been someone else. Eventually. That’s how business works. It was never personal.” 

“It was never personal,” Sal mimics. “The arrogance of you, Zayn Malik. I lost everything because of you. I was shunned by everybody I thought were my friends because suddenly I had no money. Women stopped taking my calls. I lost too many business contacts to count. I lost everything! Because of you! And you want to tell me that it’s okay because it was never anything personal.” 

“It wasn’t,” Zayn says calmly. “And even if you want to make this personal between me and you, it has nothing to do with Niall. You’re a coward. Instead of facing me like a man like you should have, you and two of your cronies overpower a defenceless 20 year-old. Are you proud of yourself? You think you did something big?” Zayn wonders if he’s gone too far as he sees the puce colour that appears on Sal’s face. A colour that means he’s well and truly angry.

“I’m going to slit his throat and make you watch,” Sal spits out. “I’m going to cut him right in here and we’re all going to watch him bleed out. I want to see what brave words you’ll have for me then.” Zayn wants to  _kill_  him but he merely clenches and unclenches his fists.

Mark appears behind Sal right then, evidently to see what all the commotion is about. He peers over Sal’s shoulder and swallows hard when he sees the scene before him.

“The cops are on their way. I wouldn’t do anything dumb if I were you,” Zayn tells them.

That immediately and visibly makes Bubba nervous. He looks away from Niall and licks his lips. Then he says to Sal, “You said there would be no cops. You said this wouldn’t be traced back to me in any way. This was about money, getting back on my feet, getting back at Zayn. I’m not trying to go to prison or die in a shoot-out tonight.” 

“I can’t get caught either, Sal. I can’t,” Mark says apprehensively. He's shaking his head. “I just got out. I can’t go back to jail. I’ll get life this time.” 

Sal pulls his gun out without warning and immediately Zayn dives onto the bed to cover Niall. But Sal merely shoots up into the ceiling and lets out a wild demented yell. Everybody flinches. “You fuckers think I care about the cops?” Sal bellows. “We have a plan here and if you idiots don’t see this through, I’ll shoot you myself. I’ll fucking kill everybody in this room.” 

Right on time, they all hear the blazing sirens in the distance and as if Sal hadn’t even spoken, Bubba and Mark clamber across the room in their haste to escape out of the window. Mark makes it out in seconds because he’s small and wiry but just as big Bubba is attempting to climb out, Sal’s gun goes off again. Bubba freezes with one leg propped on the window sill. And then a red stain spreads across the back of his white wife-beater.

For a second, it doesn’t click to Zayn what’s just happened. But then Bubba clutches his chest and falls back into the room, onto the floor, onto his back, groaning pitifully. Sal coolly walks over to him and without flinching, even as Bubba holds his hands up and pleads with him, Sal puts another three quick bullets into him - one through his forehead, another through his chest and the last through his gut. After the second bullet Bubba stops moving.

Huddled behind Zayn on the bed, Zayn can feel how badly Niall is trembling again. Come to think of it, for the first time since Zayn entered this house, he’s genuinely scared shitless too. The full gravity of the situation facing them has only just hit him and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do. He has a knife but if he leaves the bed to go try and attack Sal, him and Niall will both be dead in seconds.

“Blondie’s turn,” Sal says turning towards the two of them.

“No.” Zayn appears to have picked up on Niall’s vocabulary. “Not a fat fucking chance in fucking hell. You’re not touching him. Niall, don’t you dare move. Stay behind me.” 

“I-I’m not just going sit here and let you die for me, Zayn,” Niall whispers stubbornly (and shakily) into the back of Zayn’s shirt.

 _For fuck’s sake_.

“I heard that,” Sal says, cocking his gun towards them. “Isn’t that precious? Lovers about to die together, united to the very end. Personally I don’t see what the fuck they all see in you, Malik. I try to give them everything, shower them with attention, give them the world! And you, you’re selfish and arrogant and you think the sun rises and sets in your fucking own eyes! But they still want you! It’s always you! But it all ends today, right now.” 

“What are you talking about? Who's they?” Zayns asks, simply to buy time. Where the fuck are those cops?

Sal rubs his eyes and screams briefly again, furiously. Again Zayn doesn’t know if it’s drugs or if it’s just the crazy. Sal’s eyes lock intently on Zayn’s. “They.  _Her_. Alexa. She was mine. I found her first, Zayn. The most perfect thing I ever found and you took it away. My single biggest regret right now is that there isn’t enough time to shoot you in the legs and then fuck your boyfriend right on that bed while you’re forced to watch. I bumped into her downtown a few weeks ago. I hoped that maybe she’d forgiven me after all this time. But she wouldn’t even give me the time of day. She’s engaged to some senator’s son now but she still found the time to talk about  _you_. About how if I was more like  _you_ , things could’ve been different for me. With her. With my business. She was MINE! It was all mine.” Sal is pacing unsteadily now, keeping the gun trained on them at all times.

“And you think killing my boyfriend is the way to make things different for yourself?” 

"I reckon it's too late to change things for myself but it's not too late to destroy everything  _you_  care about and kill you too.

Heavy footsteps thud into the house and all three of them freeze. “Police! Salvatore Lombardi, come out into the hallway with your hands above your head. Game's up. We’ve already captured one of your accomplices trying to escape through the clearing.” 

“In here!” Zayn yells.

“Bad mistake that, Zayn.” Sal cocks his gun towards Zayn and as he pulls the trigger Niall screams and pushes the both of them onto the floor, out of the way. Zayn lands head first, his arms only slightly breaking the fall. It feels like the front of his head is about to split open but Zayn doesn’t think he’s been shot and Niall who’s a foot away from him seems okay too. A second later the gun goes off again and Zayn leaps on top of him and then he feels the burn of skin and bone being shredded on his left side, like he’s being ripped into shreds from the inside out.

The pain is like nothing he’s ever felt before and he can feel himself slipping away. The pain hits again, on the right this time. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is Niall beneath him screaming his name as he tries to roll them over. Zayn loves him so much and more than anything, he wishes that Niall wasn't here, in this room right now. Zayn hears so many gunshots and yelling but it all sounds so far away. He accepts that Sal is making sure he’s well and truly dead... Dying feels kind of numb, detached, like floating away. He hopes that Niall makes it out alive but he can’t really see how that’s possible. He blacks out...

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -..

It’s dark where he is. And cold. He doesn't quite feel like himself and he's pretty sure he can't feel his body. Strange. He becomes aware slowly and gradually, and he gets the sense that time has passed since the last time he was awake. He thinks he's dead, but then he wonders why he's awake and why it's so dark. It occurs to him that the darkness is very scary if that's what it's going to be like for all eternity.

But then, he feels somebody next to him and his heart jumps. That person is crawled up next to him, curled up against his side and snoring gently, and that person smells like bleach and disinfectant. But Zayn takes a closer sniff because it’s all he can do in the dark. And he smells something else underneath everything.

“Niall.” His tongue is dry and it feels like it’s stuck to the roof of his mouth so it’s hard to get even that one word out.

He tries to lift his arm to shake the body next to him and he’s surprised at the effort it takes. Like he's trying to lift a tire instead of just his own arm. He decides not to do that again and he tries his voice once more.

“Niall. Wh-where are we?” 

The body stirs and then awakes with a slight jerk of a head against Zayn's shoulder. “Zayn? Are you okay? Thank God, you’re up. How do you feel? I love you. Am I hurting you? I can move.” He sounds so... relieved, even in his sleepiness.

Zayn feels a lot like how he used to feel when he’d get high at parties. He’s present but everything feels kind of far away, just out of his grasp. He wonders if Niall is even real, if any of this is real. He mumbles, “Baby... are you alive? What's going on? What is this place?” 

There’s a short pause and then, “Everything's okay. We're in a hospital room. Some cop named Louis said he bullied the nurses into letting us share even though technically I was supposed to be discharged the day after we got here - You’ve been in and out of it for a few days. Doctors said you'd wake up properly when you're ready. Do you remember what happened?” Niall is talking softly, like he does whenever he has bad news to break to Zayn.

Zayn nods in the dark. “Yeah... I got shot. I think I died... Why’s it dark in here? Can't see much...” A thought occurs to him, “Am I blind?!” 

Niall is quick to reassure him, “No, no. It’s dark because it's really late and I turned the lights out when I went to bed. Uh, I’m supposed to be in my own bed but I like it here better. I'll move if you want, if I’m hurting you. And I can turn the lights on if you like."

“Doesn't hurt, can't feel anything,” Zayn says a little thickly. His tongue feels weird. “It’s okay, stay. You're alive. Thought you were dead 'cause of me..."

Zayn feels a pair of soft lips pressing gently against his own. Niall says, “You’re a little drugged up. They had to give you something strong for the pain because you kept moaning in your sleep - you got shot pretty bad, lost a lot of blood. But obviously you’re not meant to leave me because here you are..." Niall's voice gets even more soft. "I thought you were dead, Zayn. I’ve never been so scared in my life. When everything happened and you passed out, I thought you were dead. And it was the most horrible feeling, I just gave up too - But you’re okay now. Everything's okay.” 

“Okay,” Zayn agrees easily because it's Niall and of course he believes him. “Where was I shot?” He wonders vaguely if he'll have any cool scars.

Niall's answer is immediate.”In your right arm, your left thigh. You hit your head pretty bad when we fell. And you got shot in your butt." Niall laughs a little at that last bit.

“Sal is a terrible shot. Bastard couldn't even kill me. Ha. Guess when he shot Bubba he got lucky-” Zayn panics suddenly and tries to sit up but he can’t. Instead he says urgently, “Sal. Where is he? How did we get out?” 

Niall soothes him with a hand on his chest until Zayn settles back on the pillow. Niall answers, "He’s dead. The police came into the room just as he started shooting. He tried to shoot them down but he lost that battle pretty quickly. That crazy psycho is gone.” Niall says it flatly.

And then he curls even closer into Zayn and says, “I don’t think he was a terrible shot, Zayn. I think he kept missing because we were moving so much. I was trying to roll us over.” 

“And get killed yourself...” Zayn mutters.

“I wasn’t trying to die. I was just trying to make sure  _you_  didn’t.” 

“Stubborn. It would be nice if you listened to me for... for once in your life -” Zayn is feeling very sleepy again.

“I do listen. Sometimes. You’re gonna fall asleep on me again, aren’t you?” 

Zayn turns his head a little and kisses his forehead. He has a feeling it’s kind of sloppy. “Yeah. I'm so sleepy... I love you. Love you so much and this all doesn't quite feel real but I'm willing to go with it. You're alive and you're okay. And you don't hate me from what I can tell... You have a nice voice. I ever tell you that? Keep talking until I fall asleep.” 

Niall laughs again. “Yes, you've told me. Okay. Let me tell you about what that Louis guy said he’s gonna do to you when you wake up...” 

Zayn opens his eyes again, a little alarmed. “No. Tell me, um... Tell me that you love me and tell me that you forgive me. You're not upset with me?” Zayn figures that Niall's just being nice to him because he's all banged up in hospital --- but once he's better, Niall's gonna tell him what he really thinks. Might as well get it over with now.

But Niall kisses his lips again and says seriously, “There’s nothing to forgive. It wasn't your fault and I don't know how the hell you did it, but you managed to find me. You saved me and you were willing to die to protect me. How could I be upset? Yes, I love you. More than anything in this world. I love you. A lot more than I could ever explain. But I'll try."

And that’s how Zayn falls back asleep, sometime after Niall has said all he can in English and ventures into Spanish.


	7. Epilogue

“I need your help. Please. You have to help me, Josh.” Niall leans over the counter, behind which his friend is currently arranging packets of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and pumpkin spice into shallow pink ceramic bowls marked ‘Simon’s Bistro’ . It’s early in the morning and there are no customers around yet, as the place is only going to open in half an hour.

Niall sticks his bottom lip out in a pout and even clenches his hands together in front of him as he pleads.

Josh snorts. “Do I look like Zayn Malik to you? Those puppy-dog eyes aren’t gonna work on me.” 

“You’re supposed to be my friend,” Niall reminds him with a wheedling grin.

“And you’re supposed to be mine. I’ve got a hot date tonight and you want me to cancel on her just so I can help you make fucking cinnamon rolls?” 

“Hey, Josh - Remember that time I got kidnapped and all you did was watch through the window?” Niall teases him all the time about this. Especially when he wants something. And each and every time, Josh gets that guilty blanched look on his face. (Two months ago when Josh visited Niall in hospital the day after Zayn rescued him, Niall heard a thousand and one heartfelt apologies that haven’t really stopped since then.)

“I’m kidding!” Niall says now, laughing. “I don’t want to guiltrip you but please help me.  _Please_. You don’t have to cancel your date but can you help me prepare throughout the day if I tell you what needs to be done?” 

“You’d think you were making cinnamon rolls for the queen,” Josh mutters sullenly. After a pause he says grudgingly, “I suppose in a way you are...” 

And it’s true, in a way Niall kind of  _is_ making cinnamon rolls for the queen. She considers herself the queen of this town, anyway. The mayor is what she is, technically. The day before, she’d come into the bistro late in the afternoon and after tasting one of Niall’s mini double-chocolate cinnamon rolls, had requested that the rolls be provided at the town’s Citizens Award ceremony tonight that would be attended by over 300 people. Simon had accepted the pastry order on Niall’s behalf (typical) and now, Niall needs to make hundreds of those rolls today, each of them perfect.

So, he needs help.

“Fine,” Josh relents, sighing in defeat. “Next time I need a favour, you don’t even ask what it is, alright? You just say yes. - I don’t know why you can’t just ask Liam to help you or something?” 

Niall bursts out laughing, startling the waitress who walks past them on her way to wiping down the tables for the day. When Josh tosses a packet a sugar at his face, Niall laughs even louder and says, “Liam is a mess in the kitchen and you know it. He’s worse than Zayn and that’s saying something. I’d be better off slaving over those rolls by myself.” 

Josh pauses, looking at something behind Niall, and then he chuckles too before turning back to his ceramic bowls. Niall immediately knows that Josh is not laughing  _with_  him but  _at_  him, and Niall thinks he knows why.

Niall spins around sheepishly and says, “Zayn.” But despite the (ever-so-slight) shame he feels, he's completely unable to stop the blissful grin that slides onto his face. His boyfriend has that effect on him and there's apparently nothing Niall can do about it. The same boyfriend who he saw just an hour ago at home.

Zayn shakes his head. “Cheeky. I’m not a mess in the kitchen. I can make - coffee. And I can boil eggs.” 

“You make really good toast too,” Niall appeases as he fixes Zayn’s crooked tie.

Niall isn’t psychic (obviously). Paranormal abilities are not what made him certain that Zayn was standing behind him even before he turned around. He knew that it was his boyfriend because Zayn drops by the bistro an awful lot lately. At least once a day. Sometimes more. Before the situation with Sal happened, Niall doubts that Zayn would’ve really even been able to describe what the inside of the bistro looked like.

Now he comes here a lot, on the pretence of picking up coffee and little pastries (that Niall brings home to him at the end of the day anyway). Niall wants to tell him he isn’t fooling anybody, wants to tell him ‘ _you ain’t slick’_  in a Brooklyn accent. Zayn comes here to check up on him, to make sure he’s still there and not tossed inside a van somewhere.

Zayn’s over-protectiveness is getting better with time though and Niall reckons that maybe some day soon, Zayn will feel enough at ease that he won’t drop by here at odd times and then have to race back across town for merger and acquisition meetings and God knows what else. Not that Niall doesn’t love seeing his boyfriend often. Niall loves it,  _Simon_ not so much. He says Zayn is a distraction and that Niall gets “fuck-all” done while he’s there. But really, the bistro owner has a soft spot for Niall even if he won’t ever admit it out loud, so Niall isn’t very worried about the two of them pissing Si off.

They’ve made progress though, Zayn and Niall. It was only a little while ago that they were arguing almost every day because Zayn would barely ‘let’ Niall leave the house without him.

The first time that issue came up was two weeks after Zayn came home from the hospital. During those couple of weeks, they stayed cooped up indoors, recuperating physically and emotionally and just very very grateful to still have each other.

Late at night towards the end of those two weeks, both of them were lying in bed when Niall said, “Zayn - Liam’s sister’s birthday party is tomorrow. Haven’t seen them in a while. I think I’ll pop by for an hour or so. You’re probably not feeling up to it yet? Your thigh still hurts -” 

For some reason, Zayn stiffened beside him. “Uh. Sweetheart - I can’t let you go there.” 

“Let? What do you mean?” Niall asked him, confused.

There was a long pause and then, “I’m still in a lot of pain. Are you really gonna leave me here alone to go a party?” 

So, feeling a little guilty for even bringing it up, Niall had dropped it.

But then a week after that:

Niall had stuck his head into the study where Zayn was catching up on some work, a myriad of folders and documents spread out on the desk before him. “Hey, I’m going to the grocery store. I ran out of powdered sugar and there’s a mud-cake recipe I wanna try out. Be back in a bit, just gonna go on my bike.” 

Zayn shook his head, biting his pen. “You don’t have to do that. I can get someone to go for you.” 

“It’s okay, I want to go. Need the fresh air.” 

“No.” Said in a manner like this wasn't up for discussion.

“No? I wasn’t asking you for your permission.” 

Zayn rose from behind his desk. “If you really want to go, I’ll take you. It’s time for my break anyway.” 

“You don’t need to drive me to the grocery store,” Niall said, peering at him in confusion. “I can go by myself. I’m not five years old. Why are you treating me like a child lately?” 

“I’m not treating you like a child.” 

“Yes, you are. You don’t want me to go anywhere. At least not by myself.” 

Zayn frowned and walked forward to meet him in the study doorway. “Is that so wrong? Me not wanting you to go wandering off by yourself?” 

“Wandering off? Going to the grocery store, going to my friend’s house, going to work to see Josh - you call that wandering off?” 

“Look what happened the last time you went to work. You were kidnapped and they almost killed you!” 

It wasn’t that Niall couldn’t see where Zayn was coming from. Sometimes Niall still woke up shaking and petrified after a bad nightmare. But he wasn’t prepared to be scared for the rest of his life. Sal was dead and Niall wasn’t about to live as if that insane man still had any influence over his and Zayn’s actions.

“I’m going to the store. By myself,” Niall said firmly. “I love you. I’ll be right back. Do you want anything from there?” 

Unsurprisingly Zayn didn’t answer, he merely glared as if Niall had just announced he was going off to murder kittens.

So Niall went to the store 2 miles away, by himself. And it was when he was in the grocery store aisle having a silent debate with himself about the merits of milk chocolate sprinkles versus dark chocolate sprinkles, that he got three texts in quick succession.

**You're the most important thing to me. And when I say that I mean if I ever lost you I would lose everything I care about**

**I know you don’t like it but I worry when you’re not with me. You almost died. I'm not about to let something like that ever happen again**

**You’re mad. But can you just reply with something so that I know you’re okay? It’s taking all my willpower not to get in the car and come after you**

Smiling despite himself Niall typed back:  _I’m not mad._   _I know you act like this because you want to protect me but we have to try to move on from everything and just enjoy our lives._

**Alright**

**How long do you think you’ll be? You almost done there?**

_Zayn..._

And then a few days after that, when Niall announced that he was ready to head back to work at the bistro soon, Zayn didn’t speak to him for a whole day. And then when he did speak to him, it was only to try and convince Niall that they should “go into business together” and buy their own bakery. “Go into business together” even though Zayn knew very well that Niall was saving to buy his own bakery but didn’t have enough just yet. Niall gently but resolutely rejected his boyfriend’s partnership offer and he returned to work not long after that.

So yes, nowadays Zayn pops into the bistro so regularly that even the casual employees know his name and favourite drink order. But Niall considers it progress.

“What can I get you this morning?” Niall asks when he’s done fixing Zayn’s tie. “We still have some peanut butter cookies from yesterday afternoon. Need to get started on today’s batch.” 

Zayn nods and kisses Niall on the cheek. “Yeah, get me two cookies to go. Don’t wanna disturb you. And a pumpkin spice latte please, Josh.” 

“Coming right up,” Josh says before clearing his throat nervously. Josh won’t ever admit it but Niall knows he’s a little scared of Zayn.

When Josh is finished making the drink, Niall puts Zayn’s order in a bistro paper bag and hands it to him. “You don’t have to go right now, though. I still have a few minutes to spare.” 

Niall really should get started on those cinnamon rolls but if he wants just a few more minutes to perve at the sight of his sexy boyfriend in an impeccably-cut business suit, anybody who says they can blame him is a liar.

They talk for a bit longer, huddled close in a corner of the bistro so that they don’t disturb the early morning preparations going on around them. After a few minutes, Zayn sighs and glances at his watch. He says reluctantly, “I have to go. Performance assessments are underway at the company and I’ve got a meeting to review my Deputy Manager - But I’ll see you later tonight.” 

Niall kind of wants to pout and he knows it’s pathetic of him. But he smiles and says, “Okay. Bye, Zayn. I love you.” 

Zayn winks at him and then he’s headed towards the door.

“Don’t forget to pick up our suits from the dry cleaners for the award ceremony!” Niall calls after him.

Zayn turns back around. “Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I can’t wait. Harry and Louis are up for the same award in the criminal justice category. I’m looking forward to laughing at whichever one loses.”  _You’re already laughing_ , Niall wants to tell him. He loves it when Zayn laughs. It’s the best thing in the world because it happens pretty rarely (but so genuinely when it does happen) that Niall treasures every giggle like a diamond.

However, Niall feels it’s wise to remind him, “Just because you’re kind of friendly with them, doesn’t mean they won’t throw you into a jail cell for the night if you piss them off.” 

Zayn laughs again and it warms Niall’s heart as he thinks something to the effect of striking gold twice in one minute.

“Bye,” Niall says again when Zayn opens the door to leave. “You look really hot today by the way.” 

“As do you,” Zayn says with a half-smile.

Niall looks down at his jeans, black ‘Simon’s Bistro’ shirt and white apron. He shrugs and grins. Niall is not one to turn down a compliment. Zayn gives a last wave and disappears from sight.

Much later in the day, when Niall is blotchy-faced and sweaty and happily exhausted from mass producing cinnamon rolls all day, he contemplates having to physically pedal himself all the way home. Not a thrilling prospect. Usually he loves the bike ride and that’s why he continues to refuse whenever Zayn offers to buy him a car. But today, he’s beat. By now, everybody else is long gone from the bistro and the mayor has just had the rolls picked up for the ceremony.

Feeling only a little guilty, he sends Zayn a text:

_Are you done at work? If you are can you come get me? Please. I’ll love you forever_

The reply comes a minute later:

**You’ll love me forever only if I come get you? Cheeky**

Niall laughs and tries to weasel his way out of it **:** _I was just signing off my text. It was a general statement with no ifs and buts. I will love you forever_

**Hmmm. I’m on my way. Give me ten minutes. It’s late, make sure the bistro doors are locked until I get there**

_Remember that thing we talked about where you stop worrying so much? :)_

Niall doesn’t get a reply to that, but six minutes later Zayn pulls up outside the bistro. Niall dashes outside and locks up before unchaining his bicycle from the nearby pole. Zayn gets out of the car and wordlessly picks up the bike to put inside the boot.

The first thing he mutters once they're both seated is, “A man can’t even tell his boyfriend to be careful anymore."

Niall turns to him and kisses him long enough that he feels the workings of a smile start to appear on Zayn’s lips. “You can tell me to be careful. And I can tell you that I don’t want you to worry so much.” 

Zayn seems to accept that because he nods and starts the car.

Progress. Slow but steady progress.

Late into that night, after the ceremony, after Niall has to subtly punch Zayn in the arm when he laughs as Harry’s name is called as the winner in the category, after they’ve left and gone home and gotten into bed. It’s after all that, when Niall is sweaty and naked in Zayn’s arms, that Zayn says to him, “What you said earlier.  _No ifs and buts_. I like that...” 

Niall smiles. “I meant it.” 

“Nah, you just wanted a ride home,” Zayn says teasingly. “I’m the one who means it.” 

“We both mean it,” Niall mumbles against Zayn’s chest.

“I’m really proud of you,” Zayn says a minute later, interrupting the quiet.

“For what?” 

“Everything. Your dessert rolls were great tonight, everybody was raving. You’re gonna own the biggest bakery chain in this entire area one of these days. I love watching you realise more and more everyday how good you are at this. But besides that... I’m proud of  _you_  - who you are."

"Thank you. I haven't done anything though..."

Zayn shook his head. "That's not true. You have... Before I met you, I was losing my way, quick. But being around you makes me want to be a better man. You’re kind but you’re not weak. And you’re smart but you’re not sneaky like some people. You have a good heart and that’s actually very rare.” 

Niall buries his head further into Zayn’s chest to hide his bashful smile. A moment later he lifts his head a little and says, “You always believe in me so much. It means a lot to me.” 

“You need to know how great you are,” Zayn says simply.

“I really will love you forever.” And Niall means that too. He’s not naive enough to blindly assume that everything will work out how he wants it to. But he knows that if the two of them change as they grow older or end up breaking up one day far away, he will still always love Zayn. He can’t imagine a life without him but if it works out that way, the fact remains that Zayn holds a huge piece of his heart and Niall won’t ever get it back.

Niall believes the two of them will make it, though. He believes that they will last even though well-meaning people say he’s too young to know for sure that his first serious boyfriend is the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Zayn is the one thing he wants most in this world.

“No ifs and buts,” Zayn murmurs just before he’s out like a light.


End file.
